Taste of Strawberries
by HayffieBird
Summary: "You bug the crap out of me," Haymitch muttered. "You drive me nuts, Eff. I don't even get why I let you come back here again and again." Effie shook her head at his grouchiness but there was no denying the smile crossing her lips. "And you think you are a walk in the park?" she said. "The day I get my first gray hair it will undoubtedly be because of you." Hayffie PostMockingjay
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
Pink elephants

The train still wasn't moving and Effie couldn't keep from tapping her long decorated nails impatiently against the window sill. She was very proud of them even if they'd made wrapping Haymitch's birthday present so much more difficult.

Her thoughts had gone back to Haymitch and Katniss and Peeta repeatedly over the years. She'd read about the rebuildings in her newspaper and Plutarch had filled her in on what he knew but the last time she ever spoke to Haymitch was the day he returned to take Peeta home to District 12.

And then one day out of the blue a letter landed on her door mat inviting her to Haymitch's birthday.

Due to the destruction in District 12 and all across Panem the trains had not been accessible to the public until recently but there were still days like this with cancelled trains and these awful delays.

Effie sighed, touching her hair, feeling it was still in place. She would have gone yesterday morning hadn't it been for her job. At the rate things were going she would miss everything.

When she finally did get off of the train the sun sat low on the horizon. She walked through town following the path that would take her to the Victor's Village. She'd done so more times than she could count, collecting Haymitch for the reapings and even though most of the houses and shops were newly built, the district felt familiar to her.

A soft breeze blew through the hardwood trees on either side of the road. Little clouds of sand billowed up around her dress, no matter her efforts. She could just make out the rooftop of one of the houses in the Victor's Village when a pebble landed across from her on the road. She stopped confused, then started walking again only to feel another one hit her dress.

"Yes?" she said, looking around. A shower of pebbles hit all over her dress. "Yes!" she squeaked. "What?"

She heard someone chuckle and there he was. Unshaven, wrinkled shirt, his dirty blonde hair falling in messy strands around his face. Haymitch lay slouched back in the shadow of a tree, a collection of bottles at arm's reach, along with a plate with an uneven slice of birthday cake and a spoon sticking out. He heaved himself up, not to steadily, watching her make way for him, brushing her dress in exasperated motions.

"Why are you throwing pebbles at me, Haymitch? That's extremely rude. And childlike."

"Good to see you too, Trinks," said Haymitch and gave Effie a big hug almost tumbling her over making her give an indignant cry, trying to hold her hair in place with one hand and push him away with the other.

Haymitch slumped back onto the grass, grabbing a bottle.

"Are you not having a birthday party?" Effie asked, trying to straighten her wig, dusting off her dress.

"I escaped," he said, taking a gulp from his bottle. "Why're you so late? Isn't that rude?"

"The train was behind schedule. Won't Katniss and Peeta wonder where you are?"

"Left a note."

"You should attend the party, Haymitch. It is for you after all."

"I'm stayin' right here," said Haymitch. "Better for everyone anyway. I have my bottles, my cake, the kids won't have to deal with me and everyone's getting a nice hot meal."

"You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"Yep," said Haymitch. He patted the space next to him. "Sit."

Effie looked from Haymitch to the grass and back again.

"No, thank you."

"You're gonna give me my present, aren't you?"

"Yes. Eventually…"

"So sit."

"… at the party. After the speeches. That's what I had in mind."

"What speeches? Come on and sit down, Eff. Have a rest from those shoes you're wearing. They look like they'll eat you."

"They're actually quite more comfortable than my usual choice of footwear," said Effie automatically. But she did relent, putting her suitcase aside, getting a handkerchief out of her sleeve and draped it over the grass.

"You're into bugs this year?" Haymitch asked when she had a seat next to him. He was looking at the orange butterflies adorning her shoulder.

Effie cleared her throat, unable to hide how pleased she was over her outfit, brushing her hand against her patterned orange dress.

"It's a monarch butterfly inspired outfit", she said. "I've always wanted one and the result has exceeded all my expectations. Yes."

Haymitch took a swig from his bottle, glancing up at the little butterfly arrangement sticking out of her wig and down at the ones sprouting out over her chest all the way up to her chin and then he tilted his head, admiring her long legs.

"You look just as crazy as ever, princess. Funny, that's almost comforting."

He yawned, scratching his stomach that pressed against his shirt when he stretched out. Then he extended his hand to Effie, expectantly.

"So, give me my present."

"You do know that's not how it works?"

"Well, you brought me one, didn't you?"

"Yes, but…"

"So give it to me," he said, flicking his fingers inwardly.

Effie sighed and reached for her suitcase, lifting out a large flat box in gold wrappings. His hands were weighed down when she handed it to him.

"What is this?" he asked, shaking it slightly as if still holding on to the hope it would be something liquid.

"Look for yourself," Effie said. Her eyes had lit up with expectations.

Haymitch had no high hopes. The paper rustled, catching glints of the sun when he unwrapped it.

And his eyebrows lifted when he saw what it was.

"Do you like it?" Effie smiled. "I remember you telling me you enjoy playing chess."

Haymitch ran his fingers against the chessboard, made out of some kind of dark and light stone, smooth as glass.

"I had it done especially for you", said Effie. "See." And her finger brushed lightly against the side of the board, where elegant letters spelled Haymitch Abernathy.

He opened it finding the chess pieces attached within, one side in black stone, the opposing side in white. They were small but they were elaborate. Armored knights, arrow bearing soldiers, bishops, crowned kings and queens.

"Well, that's one way to waste money," Haymitch mumbled, lifting one of the pawns, having a look at it.

"And what do you say?" asked Effie. "When you get a present you say…"

Haymitch rolled his eyes and carefully put the piece back into the chessboard and the chessboard back into its wrapping.

"Thanks, Eff. Appreciate your not that useful gift very much."

He extended his birthday cake to her.

"Want some of this?"

"Um," said Effie, looking at its obviously half-eaten state. "No, I am fine."

"You didn't mind sharing with me before."

"One time," said Effie, remembering when she'd come to collect him for a reaping, hands shaking with low blood sugar and Haymitch had given her a cup of goat milk. "And I didn't know you refilled your already used cup. Not until afterwards when you had the kindness to inform me."

Haymitch snapped the seal on another bottle and then he stuck it right under Effie's nose and she drew back instantly.

"And I'm not drinking that. Do you even know what it is?"

Haymitch shrugged.

"White liquor?"

"That's suspiciously vague."

He took another big gulp from his own bottle, looking back at Effie with a smug grin on his face. "Bet you've never been drunk, princess."

"Of course I have, Haymitch. I was young once too, you know."

"Really?"

"Even if I never made a habit of drinking while at work."

"We're not working now, are we?" He put the bottle into her hand. "Try it. You can drink my health or something. It's my birthday, y'know."

Effie sighed and accepted it. She tipped it up, taking a mouthful, only to crinkle her face, coughing.

"Sweet Panem," she got out. Her eyes watered and she put the bottle away, leaning it against a boulder. "I'm not drinking that anymore even if it is your birthday."

She tried to compose herself and reached for her purse getting out a hand mirror – the round gold glitzy one he remembered from their many train rides together.

"When's your birthday?" he asked.

"1th of January. It was quite dramatic. My mother's water broke in the middle of a New Year's dinner party. I was a little early."

"Doesn't surprise me at all. How old are you again?"

"It's impolite to ask a lady her age, Haymitch."

"Why? You're forty?"

"Absolutely not! Do I look like I'm forty?"

"Nah, you don't look a day over fifty two," said Haymitch, letting his empty bottle roll onto the grass.

"Well, not everyone can look as devastatingly handsome as you, can they?" said Effie, examining her reflection for a few more moments, brushed a light fingertip unnecessary along her jaw line and snapped the mirror shut. She cleared her throat and took another sip from her bottle. The liquor felt like fire going down. Now it was warming her from inside.

"But your rude remark put aside, Haymitch, I'm happy you invited me here first time you got."

"I didn't," said Haymitch. "Katniss and Peeta did. Whole party was their idea."

"Oh," said Effie, unable to hide her disappointment. Haymitch pulled out a wrinkled cloth from his back pocket, blowing his nose loudly.

"Thought about you though," he said.

Effie smiled.

"I have thought about you too."

Haymitch lifted his bottle to his lips and Effie did the same, not as opposed to this "white liquor" after a few mouthfuls.

Even with the sun gone the air was warm as they sat under the tree talking and drinking and, not having Haymitch's hollow leg, Effie got gigglier and chattier by the minute. She'd wrapped her hands lovingly around her bottle, bubbling with excitement as she talked about stuff meaning nothing to Haymitch like fish tanks in home design or where to find the best wigs or simply naming prominent Capitol innovators of late.

"And that's why Peaseblossom's designs are amazing! Amazing!" Effie slurred. She leaned back against the tree next to him and took Haymitch's bottle just as he was about to have a drink and she tipped the content into her own mouth. How rude, Haymitch thought.

Effie inhaled, rubbing the back of her hand against her mouth, looking at Haymitch.

"How are my victors?" she asked. "How are Katniss and Peeta?"

"Better," said Haymitch. "They're living together."

"Oh, it makes me very happy to hear that," Effie said. "They deserve to be happy after all they've been through."

She leaned into Haymitch's shoulder so heavily he could feel her breathing.

"What about you?" she asked. "Are you living together? I wish you'd called me and told me how you were because I don't know. You living all by your lonesome. It was so sad. I think I would like some cake now!" she said and bolted up, grabbing his plate. "Oh, that is delicious!" she said, voice muffled by the cake. "Did Peeta make this? Delicious! You want some?"

"I'm good, sweetheart."

"Oh," Effie cooed.

"What?"

"It feels so long ago since you called me that." She rested her head on his shoulder, liquor spilling from her bottle. "I've missed you," she mumbled. "I've missed your smell."

"How drunk are you, Eff?"

"Um… quite drunk… I think."

She closed her eyes, taking Haymitch's arm wrapping it around herself like a blanket. Not before long she was snoring.

xXx

"Heard the escort's back," said Greasy Sae, handing a bowl of steaming hot stew to Haymitch. "You should have brought her with you, boy", she said. "Girl should eat more."

After the war when they opened the borders many new shops had sprung up in Twelve, giving you less and less need for the black market. Still, the Hob was rebuilt when the rest of Twelve were and a few in town with Greasy Sae and Ripper leading the way had turned it into an eatery and something of an Inn. The few times Haymitch felt the need of a hot plate he always went there.

He had a seat in the corner as was his habit and as he soaked up the stew on his bread, slowly chewing on it, he wondered if Effie had woken yet.

It felt strange having her here in Twelve. After his return with Peeta four years ago he'd made Plutarch give him updates on how Effie was doing. He felt bad about not keeping in touch. Not that he didn't feel bad about a lot of things concerning Effie.

It had been Plutarch's idea having Effie escort Katniss for Snow's execution. He hadn't been happy about it, with Effie still in the hospital but Plutarch said it would give a good statement and Effie said she wanted to do it. That Katniss should be surrounded by people she knew. He'd come and visited Effie at the hospital as often as he could and they'd talked a lot. About Katniss, about Peeta, about her recovery and what would happen to Panem now but nothing about her abduction or torture. He knew some of what she'd been through, having seen her injuries and heard her doctor's report. He would be there if she wanted to talk but as soon as they got even close to the subject she always changed topic.

When he returned to get Peeta, she'd followed them up to the roof where the hovercraft was waiting, the powder on her face hiding the multi colored bruises he knew were there. She'd wrapped her arms around Peeta, speaking softly to him and then she turned to Haymitch, hugging him as well, whispering in his ear to "Take care of them".  
And when the hovercraft took off and he watched Effie getting smaller and smaller he'd honestly believed their paths would never cross again.

He didn't bring home a portion of Greasy Sae's wild dog and rhubarb stew like the old woman suggested – the name would make Effie heave – but he did buy her a cup of broth to go with.

Katniss, who'd already traded the content of her game bag to Greasy Sae, the rabbits to Rooba, earlier that morning came out of the grocer's with Peeta just when Haymitch appeared and they headed back for the Victor's Village together.

"Where's Effie?" Peeta asked, looking to Haymitch when they were almost home. "Never saw her come in yesterday."

"There," said Haymitch, nodding to his right.

"What?"

"There," he said again but it wasn't until he turned, walking over the grass with a very bewildered Katniss and Peeta in tow that they even noticed the little heap in the shadows of a hardwood tree.

Their former escort lay curled up on the grass, snoring softly. Her shoes and all the empty bottles stood in neat rows beside her. Her wig had tilted slightly off-centred and someone – Katniss had a very strong feeling who – had stuck half a dozen wild flowers into it, the blooms bobbing up and down whenever Effie moved.

"You know she's going to tear your hair out when she wakes," said Katniss when Haymitch crouched down nudging Effie unceremoniously.

It sure wasn't the reunion of their team Effie had imagined. She was so hangover she was almost cross-eyed but she put on a bright smile getting up unsteadily by holding on to the tree and Haymitch's elbow to give Katniss and Peeta a hug, her big hair completely askew. She didn't even notice she was decorated in flowers, only gratefully taking Haymitch's arm for support as they slowly headed up the path to the Victor's Village and Katniss and Peeta's house, where she would be staying.

"I can't believe I got so inebriated," said Effie when they were alone in the hallway in front of a full length mirror and Effie was impatiently pulling out Haymitch's flowers from her hair. "And I can't believe you let them find me like this," she added pointing to her hair. "What a spectacle."

"You'd rather have them finding you the way I did? Spooning me."

"Oh, I didn't, Haymitch," said Effie with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"If you say so, sweetheart," said Haymitch and then they joined Katniss and Peeta in the living room, putting their little bouquet in a vase on the window sill.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
The benefits of balance

It was so quiet with Effie gone.  
He'd never liked the silence much, only made him hear his own dark thoughts, but at the same time it was relieving not having her around too. Relieving to get to sleep whenever he wanted, to not have her high pitched voice commenting on his drinking or the state of his clothes when he was the most hangover. Relieving to not be woken to another "big big big day!" by her rapping on his door.

He didn't understand why she'd insisted on waking him so damn early each morning when all they ever seemed to do was sit on his front porch drinking an endless supply of Capitol tea tasting like flowers or a sickly sweet concoction she called "ice tea".

It was so boring he was ready to throw himself off the slag heap, having to listen to Effie's nonstop chit-chatting. He'd sat there day in and day out watching her waving hands in the air and tried recalling how long she'd stay. It was always good to know how long Effie Trinket would be present – to know what you were in for – and she must have checked it off with him at some point but he couldn't for the sake of his life remember and when she wasn't pouring him tea she was dragging him on walks back and forth along the dusty roads of Twelve.

Yeah, he was relieved when Effie left and his life fell back into its old routine. And yet his thoughts went back to her – not often but always when he least expected it. He guessed it wasn't odd wondering about her, what she was doing. Ever since he got the determined, clipboard clutching girl that was Effie Trinket as his escort she'd been a constant in his life.

He thought of writing to her. She'd sent him a thank you card days after his birthday, but he ended up with a blank paper just the same. Effie would probably be unable to decipher his handwriting anyway.

So the days just came and went, most of them with Haymitch on the couch, bottle in hand, staring leisurely up at the crackled ceiling paint. Sometimes Peeta was there and the smell of fresh bread dispersed some of the sour stench of neglect Haymitch hardly even notice anymore. Sometimes he woke, his head feeling like it would split open, finding someone had made up his fire, leaving a bowl of soup on the hearth. Each Sunday Katniss and Peeta dug him out to have dinner with them if he wanted to or not.

One morning all of Twelve was covered in frost.

Winters around here were merciless. He got good use of the jacket Katniss and Peeta had gotten him for his birthday when he trudged along the snow packed road into town getting his weekly supply of liquor at Ripper's or sometimes went over to the boy's bakery where there were frosted ginger cake houses in the windows.

The only times you could really tell there was someone living in Haymitch's house at all were at night when his windows gleamed through the darkness and one of those nights when the snowy wind howled outside and he was having some of Peeta's rolls for his first solid meal all day, Haymitch clawed around a kitchen drawer finding something he did not expect.

If he hadn't been so tanked up he probably would have recognized the shining black box right away. Now it took for him to open it and reveal the elegant, gold bracelet he hadn't laid his eyes on since Finnick gave it back to him on the hovercraft.

He slumped down on the couch, bread in one hand, jewelry in the other, seeing the firelight reflect itself in the gold surface. Effie had called it bangle and in that one memory he felt a pang of longing, so strong he frowned and put his roll away, unable to eat another bite.

He'd always been lousy at answering his phone, not that there were many calling him, but he'd at least kept from tearing it out of the wall after Effie had it fixed before the Quarter Quell. She'd even put up a list of "Numbers of importance" next to it, yellowed by now, for Katniss and Peeta's thought to be wedding. He blinking hard several times to clear his head and dialed Effie's number.

The signals went on and on and just as he thought she wasn't going to pick up there was a crackle on the other end.

"Eff?"

"Haymitch?"

There was something wrong with Effie's voice. His eyebrows came together as he tried to tell what it was.

"Hello?" said Effie uncertainly.

"Yeah," Haymitch slurred. "Yeah, is me."

"Why are you calling me so late? It's 3AM."

Haymitch blinked stupidly, looking from the wall clock and back.

"What're you doin'?" he asked.

"I'm in bed. It's the middle of the night."

Her voice was choked, like she had a cold and her breathing trembled. What she didn't sound like was someone who'd been woken in the middle of the night, even in his state he could tell. He remembered those many days in the hospital when he arrived finding Effie with puffy eyes and tears on her cheeks that she always quickly wiped away when she saw him at the door. Her voice had sounded exactly like that.

"You crying?"

"No," said Effie.

"You're crying."

"I'm not," she said. She shivered and he heard the rustle of sheets like she was pulling a blanket tighter around herself.

"I can hear you breathing through your mouth, Eff. You sick?"

"I'm not sick. I'm just tired. It's 3 AM. What do you want?" A moment passed. "Nothing's happened, has it? Are Katniss and Peeta alright?"

"Think I'm drunk calling ya."

"Of course," said Effie. She drew a breath. "How are you? Have you tried your chessboard yet?"

"Why weren't you asleep?"

"Who says I wasn't?"

"You always bit my head off when I woke you drunk during the Games." He took a swig from his bottle. "You had a nightmare or something? That's why you're up?"

"No, because it's cold," said Effie and before Haymitch could answer, the words came flowing out of her mouth. The heat wasn't working as it should for some reason and there was no one she could call for the next three hours, and now it was just snowing and snowing and she couldn't even go up to get another blanket because the floor was so cold.

"I've practically got frost in my hair."

"Poor, Effs," said Haymitch, looking into his own glowing fireplace, flexing his toes that were toasty warm. Effie made a sad sound as if she could see it. "Tuck in your blanket," he said.

"What?"

"Tuck in your blanket. Like a sleeping bag. Then it'll reflect your bod head."

There was the rustle of sheets and he heard Effie's teeth clattering. Then after a few moments her breathing calmed.

"Better?" he asked.

"Thank you."

They silenced. Haymitch scratched his stubble with the top of his bottle.

"I wish you were here, Haymitch," Effie finally said. "I really do. Things just feel warmer when you're around. If you were here, do you know what I would do? I would make us both a cup of hot chocolate with chili pepper. Have you ever tried it? It's really delicious and I would get out some woolen socks too, so we wouldn't mind the floor. They are pink but they're warm and really soft."

"You OK, Eff?" Haymitch asked.

"I'm sorry", Effie said. "I know I sound sentimental. Sometimes I… I get a little sad when it's dark outside. That's all. But it will pass. It always does."

"Want me to come over?"

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop and think about them. Maybe because he knew what it was like to not feel well in the dark.

"You don't have to come all the way to the Capitol, Haymitch", Effie said softly. "I wouldn't make you do that. I know you hate the Capitol and don't want to come and visit me."

Haymitch knitted his eyebrows together.

"Don't put words in my mouth, sweetheart. Was an honest offer."

"It takes a day to get to the Capitol. You would have to sleep on the train. And in this weather. Not… not that it wouldn't be nice having a guest over but…"

And she kept on like that until Haymitch rolled his eyes and interrupted her.

"Your voice's giving me a headache, sweetheart. If you want me to come over I'll come over. What day's today?"

"Today is Thursday."

"So I'll come tomorrow."

"Technically it's already tomorrow."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Well, I… it's settled then," said Effie and even though she sounded startled she also sounded much happier than when she first picked up the phone.

xXx

It felt strange being on this train again. Last time was the day the Capitol carted them all of for the Quell and they'd been sitting around the table, all in their own misery. He remembered Effie sending her wine away for his sake, squeezing his shaky hand under the table when no one else was looking.

These post-war trains were different, of course. Less extravagant, even if they were just as fast. Somewhere a sleeping car was waiting for him but he preferred the regular seats in the wide, empty hallways, resting his feet on the seat opposite of him. He watched his breath appear and disappear on the window, hearing the wind whistle outside and the bottles in his duffel bag clink whenever the train made a sudden move.

Never in a million years had he imagined going back to the Capitol, or any other part of Panem for that matter. Katniss probably believed he would have gone some place with less painful memories after the war if he'd had the choice but even if he hadn't had to move back home for Katniss's sake there was no other place for him in the world. He guessed it was the same thing for Effie. He remembered how choked her voice had sounded, wondering if those nights when she got sad when it was dark outside were many.

Not until the sun peeked over the horizon did Haymitch's head slump down on his shoulder and there he would sit well into the afternoon when a loudspeaker jolted him awake. Watching the overcrowded platform he got an unpleasant image of when the four of them used to pull into the station every year to a wide-grinning, chanting and waving crowd, eager to see this year's tributes.

None of the people outside were paying attention to the train now of course and he took his duffel bag heading for the exit, shuddering when snow whirled up in his face. No wonder Effie wept, he thought as he made his way through the crowd, trying to spot her somewhere in this blur of colors.

He saw her long before she saw him, standing under the big clock. God, she was bright. She must shine in the damn dark. Her powdered face broke into a smile when she saw him and she waved, looking like some kind of angel you put in a Christmas tree.

"There you are," she said. "I was getting worried. You were supposed to be here six minutes ago and I was afraid the train was behind schedule but now you're here. Welcome Haymitch," she said and kissed him on the cheek. Haymitch rubbed the spot to make sure none of her colors had stuck on him and she looped her arm around his.

"It's so nice to receive you," she smiled. Her long fake eyelashes looked like snow flurries clung to them and she pulled him with her towards the waiting cab. "I have so much planned for us", she continued. "You will get the largest guest room of course and your own bathroom. I'm sure we're going to have a very nice weekend together."

"Yeah, you go on trying to convince yourself of that, sweetheart." He noticed her nails were decorated with snowflakes and he shook his head in disbelief.

Effie's apartment building wasn't pink like Haymitch had always imagined it but a deep orange like the fruit they had at the Hob on New Year's. The building was squeezed in between two bright turquoise ones – as if bent on giving him a headache.

"Well," said Effie with a smile. "This is my home."

He couldn't help himself. He craned his neck right and left the moment they got inside. Oddly enough, it didn't look half as outrageous as he'd expected. Muted colored leather sofas and arm chairs, soft carpets, wooden furniture and mirrors. Lots of mirrors.

"You grew up here?" he asked.

"Yes. Our landlady used to babysit me when I was little."

"I can totally imagine you as a kid."

"Oh?" Effie smiled.

"Probably came out of your mum, wig and all."

Place seemed big for just one person. Effie owned the whole bottom floor. They turned a corner and she held opened a door for him.

"This is your room."

The first he saw was the bed, twice the size of his own back home and looking so comfortable he slumped down on it immediately, stiff from the train ride. He pulled his socks off, burying his feet in the soft bedspread.

Effie frowned at his socks so carelessly thrown on the floor but she cleared her throat and said,

"I took liberty of getting you these just in case the floor gets cold," she said and handed him a pair of dark blue slippers. And a water glass," she added pointing to the nightstand. "In case you get thirsty in the middle of the night. Towels are in the bathroom. There's both a shower and a bathtub, whatever you prefer and if you need a pajamas I have some you can borrow. And don't get too comfortable," she smiled when Haymitch lay back against the pillows, looking overly pleased. "The night is young."

The pleased look immediately vanished from Haymitch's face.

"What?"

And Effie opened a closet taking out a black garment bag, draping it over the bed.

"My dear friend Flora is throwing a party tonight and you are my plus one."

"Oh, fuck no!" said Haymitch, sprinting up from the bed, with Effie getting out something blue and glistening from the garment bag.

"You would look so dashing in this one," Effie sighed, holding it against him. "It goes perfectly with your skin tone."

"I'm not going to some Capitol freak show. Forget it!"

"It's not a freak show. It's a nice party."

"I'm not going," Haymitch repeated, crossing his arms over his chest as if to make sure she wouldn't be able to force the clothes onto him.

"It's not like the sponsor banquets or presidential dinners," said Effie. "Not at all. It's simply a… get-together. There will be good food and drinks, interesting people."

"I've got all I need right here. You go if you wanna go."

"I don't want to go alone," said Effie, throwing her hands at her sides, the blue suit shimmering. "And everyone will bring their dates. I would look ridiculous if I came alone."

"Since when am I your date?"

"You know what I…"

"And even if I was, I sure as hell wouldn't wear that," he said with a disgusted look at the blue suit. It had a white collar that looked way too snug for his taste.

"We would have a wonderful evening," said Effie. "I'm sure."

"Yeah," Haymitch snorted. "Safe bet."

"And I will pay for your drinks!"

Haymitch looked up.

"All night long?"

"So will you accompany me tonight, wearing this?" she asked. "Showered," she added after a pause.

Haymitch sighed and grabbed the suit.

xXx

Haymitch hated parties. He hated being paraded around and he hated mingling. During the Games, before Katniss and Peeta came along, he'd left all of that to Effie while he was at the bar, long ago abandoned the belief any action on his part would make a difference; a behaviour and a thinking Effie had quarreled with him about numerously.

Sure, maybe this party wasn't Games related, he thought while tugging at his collar. It still made his skin crawl when Effie pulled him into the mansion and the heat from the crowds of flamboyantly dressed people hit him like a wall.

Effie smiled left and right as she made way through the crowds, expertly zigzagging between waving glasses, lit cigars and careless elbows.

"Where's the bar?" Haymitch asked, scanning over people's heads.

"Well, it's only polite to first introduce yourself to…"

"Don't have to. Me and the bar go back a long way," said Haymitch and Effie sighed just as he spotted the bar with its wonderful rows of green and blue and golden bottles.

He pulled Effie with him as he headed towards it and heaved himself up on a barstool, ordering two glasses of scotch. He nudged one glass over to Effie who took a sip while Haymitch emptied half of his in one go.

"You look insane," he said, taking in Effie's outfit, the bluish flower hanging down her shoulder, her slime green hair.

Effie raised an eyebrow at him.

"Be nice Haymitch or I might ask you to dance."

Just as she said that, the orchestra which up until now had played softly in the background stroke up a tune, getting people's attention and Haymitch squirmed with unease on his chair.

But before he could say anything a man with shining blonde hair materialized so fast you'd think he'd stood at the ready ever since they walked in.

"Excuse me, ms Trinket," he said, giving her the Capitol bow as was tradition here and held out his hand. "Can I have this dance?"

Effie smiled and after throwing a comment about responsible drinking over her shoulder she disappeared out on the dance floor.

He didn't try and stop her, with two glasses of excellent Capitol scotch and the bartender at the ready. Without a thought of Effie, dancing somewhere behind him, he relished in his easily achieved freedom, as well as free drinks.

Until the music faded again and a sigh escaped his lips, expecting the familiar hammering of heels, when Effie returned to him.

Only she wasn't. He turned around just in time to see a man, another man, bow for Effie, leading her back out on the dance area.

She truly did look insane in that getup and with thick layers of blue and green and yellow eye makeup, making her look 10 years older than she was. The flock of Capitol suitors watching her dance didn't look like they shared Haymitch's opinion though. They looked as if they'd found a pot of gold where they least expected it. A pack of dogs catching a smell in the air.

Haymitch downed what was left of his drink. He couldn't dance, nor did he wish to. Effie had tried to teach him once and stated her feet had never recovered.

He waved his empty glass at the bartender, watching Effie in the arms of yet another dance partner, a man who'd dyed himself silver but still amazingly enough did not leave fingerprints on Effie when he held her that tightly.

Haymitch snorted so heavily the liquor in his glass splashed back on his nose. She must be desperate, dancing with men like those. And she was one to talk about manners, stranding him on this party, not so much as throwing a glance at him.

What was he even doing here? Back in the Capitol, wearing clothes matching Effie's. But of course that was something he knew. He'd come here because he wanted to know how she were. But he thought they would spend their days over at her place, like when she visited Twelve. He hadn't expected this, which was stupid of him when he thought about it.

Haymitch's mood went from bad to worse as he watched Effie dance through an endless line of Capitol suitors, one more freakish looking than the other, her outfit glistening in the light from the crystal chandeliers. He didn't know much about dancing but whatever it was that she was doing she was damn good at it. Too good.

Haymitch had himself another drink and more than a few of the guests had started giving him looks. A lady with black gloves and dark blue lipstick whispered something to her date but when Haymitch gave her a mocking version of the Capitol bow she sniffed, pulling her companion with her and then he was alone at the bar.

There were buffet tables on the other side of the room with fruit tureens on ice, bread and cheese, fancy dishes and a huge, elegant cake with whipped cream and flakes of chocolate that people hadn't started in on yet. He wouldn't mind having some of the food but it irritated him having to go there alone when he was supposed to be Effie's plus one.

"Hey, Eff!" he called across the room. Some of the guests looked his way but not Effie. She seemed to have forgotten he even existed, getting twirled by her suitor – the silver colored one, again. "Eff!" Haymitch called, louder this time, to be heard over the music and the buzzing of people.

He watched the man make an elegant move so his silver arms and Effie's arms were wrapped together over her upper body, with the two of them swaying slightly from side to side with him hugging her from behind, whispering something in her ear.

Haymitch slammed his half emptied glass of whiskey on the bar table and got off his chair, making way through the crowds, not caring in the slightest about the indignant sounds of those he elbowed passed. He wasn't as steady as he'd like to be but his irritation kept him from staggering.

"I'm hungry," he said, walking over the dance area, eyes on Effie who hadn't even spotted him yet. There were several couples dancing and he got bumped here and there on his way for her. He reached out his hand to nudge her dance partner on the shoulder.

But before he'd gotten the chance someone bumped into him from behind and Haymitch staggered forward slamming right into Effie's partner. The man yelped and stumbled forwards, losing his grip on Effie's hand as he'd just twirled her. Effie made a stumbling pirouette, tripped in her high heels and toppled the table over when trying to break her fall – getting the gigantic cake all over herself.

It was so horrible there was only one thing people could do. Watch. Even the musicians had silenced, mouths agape seeing Effie on the floor, all arms and legs inside layers and layers of whipped cream and chocolate and cake. She was too stunned and her face too covered in the stuff to even scream. She wiped her hands against her face and a pair of blue eyes came visible.

Clumps of cake fell from her as Effie tried to get up, her hands and feet only slipping on the messy floor and Haymitch saw many of the men she'd danced with earlier, including the silver one, move back to keep from getting their clothes soiled.

Finally Haymitch stepped in, giving her a hand and Effie stared at him, shakily getting to her feet, cake plunging from her onto the once shiny wooden floor.

The restroom got empty extraordinarily fast when Effie entered, Haymitch in tow and first now when they were alone did she truly turn to him.

"Are you out of your mind, Haymitch!?"

"It was an accident," said Haymitch. "Just wondered if you wanted to grab something to eat."

"I've never been so humiliated! And we ruined Flora's cake!" Effie grabbed half a dozen paper napkins, wiping her face clean of whipped cream and chocolate, scraping cake from her dress by the handful, dumping it into the washbasin. "Look at my dress! Look at my hair!"

Haymitch fought hard to keep the muscles in his face under control. He reached out, plucking a flake of chocolate from her shoulder, popping it into his mouth.

Flora who was displeased about nothing but her ruined cake appeared at the door and after lending Effie a towel she offered to call them a cab.

"I'm humiliated!" Effie said for surely the tenth time when they entered her apartment. With an angry huff she turned the lights on by clapping her hands together. "You find everything you need in the bathroom cabinet", she said. "I would help you but I have jam under my fingernails!"

And then Haymitch lay on his own bed, bottle in hand, listening to Effie taking a shower so long she would have used up all the hot water if it had been at his house.

He heard when she came out too, closing the bathroom door after herself and then the muffled sound that could only be Effie throwing her very own pity party. Haymitch rolled over on his side, pounding his fist against the wall.

"What?" he heard Effie's voice.

"Shut up."

"Rude," muttered Effie.

He rolled onto his back again, grinning, bringing the bottle to his lips. But after a full five minutes of having to listen to Effie muttering about her terrible lot in life he hauled himself out of bed, heading for her room.

"Effs, quit being so…" he said and pushed open the door but his voice was cut off by a scream.

"Don't come in here!" Beauty products spilled over the edge of her vanity table as Effie had pulled the comforter over her head. "I'm not presentable! I'm not even Beauty Base Zero!"

"Shit, Eff. You could cut bread with that voice."

"Turn around! Look away! Look away!"

Haymitch sighed and faced the wall, hearing Effie flit about the room, opening closets and drawers.

"How bad can you be, really?" he said.

"What do you want, Haymitch? Come to humiliate me some more?"

"Who cares about that? Wanna talk humiliation, sweetheart? Think about my dive at the reaping. Whole fucking country saw that. You've put on your crap yet?"

"Yes. No. I mean yes. It's not crap," said Effie, failing to keep the impatience out of her voice. Haymitch turned, seeing Effie stand there in a pink dressing gown tied tightly around her body, face flushed and her hair hidden under one of her gray head wraps.

He put his bottle of liquor on the nightstand next to Effie's filled water glass and crashed on her bed.

"You will not tell this to a living soul. And that outfit was new. And I who had such a lovely time," she said, giving him a long look and Haymitch didn't know what he ached to do the most. Sigh with annoyance at her way of making this all his fault, tease her for obsessing or comfort her because no one could look as sad as Effie when she was upset.

He averted his gaze and his eyes fell on the large painting across from them. He recognized it immediately. Not because he'd seen it before but because he'd been there before. Looking at it now, he could almost feel the warm sun, smell the scent of summer and wildflowers, feel the breeze rustling through the hardwood trees surrounding the Meadow.

There was only one person who could have made it.

"Peeta gave it to me," said Effie, confirming his thought. "While he was still at the Capitol."

Haymitch nodded. The boy hadn't spoken about it but of course Peeta had spent time with Effie while he was still under Aurelius care. The doctor wouldn't let him return to Twelve until he was safe to be around Katniss and he could imagine Effie and the boy talking, maybe while he made this painting.

"We can go there someday," said Haymitch. "You know. The Meadow."

Effie looked surprised over this unexpected offer but then she smiled.

"I'd love to." She folded her hands on her lap. "We need to go down to the drycleaner's with our outfits tomorrow," she said. "But after that I will show you the city."

A groan escaped Haymitch's lips and he grabbed a pillow, pressing it over his face.

xXx

Parts of the Capitol had been as damaged as the districts during the rebellion but looking at it now it felt like the city hadn't changed a bit, except there were no framed photos of President Snow in the shop windows.

He knew President Paylor and her new administration, had had long days – much assisted by Plutarch and Beetee – cleaning the city off pods, including the contraptions and muttations the Capitolians didn't even know lay beneath their feet until that gory winter day when Katniss and Peeta entered the city and the ground cracked opened from under them.  
Haymitch pushed the thought aside. That for certain was something he didn't want to think about more than he had to.

Effie seemed to have decided to forgive Haymitch for the cake debacle because she was having a ball, strolling down the well-plowed pavements with Haymitch on her arm, telling him the name, height, material, designer, year and reception of every candy colored building of worth as they passed them. While Haymitch let her words go in one ear and out the other – a method he'd perfected over the years.

"There is only one place to really see the city," said Effie, squeezing Haymitch's arm. "And that's the Capitolium. It's got the most marvelous view of the entire city. It's also a restaurant."

The building in question towered above the rest, gleamed in the sunlight. They entered the warmth of a foyer, handing over their outerwear in the wardrobe and getting their tickets.

Apart from the large cloud on her head Effie was wearing a black dress that was positively heart stopping. It seemed to be neither fabric nor metal but something in between, embroidered with silver threads and having a neckline that exposed her skin in an innocent way maybe but still more than enough to make him swallow.

Effie felt his eyes on her and smiled. And then she headed right for the curved marble staircase.

"Elevators," said Haymitch.

"I thought we could watch the view as we go. We always did that when I was little."

"We're gonna _walk_ all the way up? You kiddin' me? I won't survive."

"You're not that old, Haymitch," said Effie amusedly.

"Why can't we just watch the damn view when we're up there?"

"Well, some people see it as part of the experience taking the stairs and watch the city shrink as they go. You'll manage. A stockily built district man like you," said Effie, with a glint in her eyes.

"I hate you," growled Haymitch when Effie mounted the first seven steps like it was nothing.

"The Capitolium is viewed as one of Panem's greatest architectural designs," said Effie as they went upwards, step by step by step. "It's had a steady flow of visitors ever since it was built, won the Minerva Medal two years in a row and…"

She turned her head with a smile but silenced when she discover Haymitch was not among the few people whom had also decided to take the stairs.

"Haymitch?" she said. There was a groan somewhere below. She headed down the steps, excusing herself as she went.

"Oh dear," she said, when she spotted Haymitch leaning against the banister, face so red he looked like he'd have a stroke. "Are you alright?"

Haymitch waved his hand at her to shut her up. He reached her with a groan and rested one hand on his thigh, the other against the banister, trying to catch his breath, stopping up the flow of people descending the stairs.

"Maybe we," said Effie, looking at Haymitch with concern. "Maybe we should take the elevator after all."

"Not… on your life," Haymitch gasped. He wiped his face with his shirtsleeve and then they slowly continued their way up the stairs, neither of them getting any joy from watching the city become smaller and smaller.

"Well," said Effie uncertainly, feeling the need to defend herself. "This is what happens when you abuse your body with years of heavy drinking."

"Tell me something I don't know, sweetheart," Haymitch snorted, his heart pulsating in his throat, his thighs feeling like they were burning.

"We're nearly there," said Effie and then she added, as if thinking it would sheer him up, "You know. This poor attempt at climbing a flight of stairs could be a motivation for you to get your neglected body back into shape."

The view was lost on Haymitch when they finally reached the dome that was the Capitolium's restaurant and he collapsed on the nearest chair, head between his knees not bothering about the people already at the table.

Effie got them seats next to a potted tree with large green and pinkish leaves lending them some shade from the painfully bright sun.

"My parents had their first date in this restaurant," Effie told him when pouring steaming hot coffee into first his cup and then her own. "They both detested coffee but they didn't want to admit that to each other so they sat here, forcing it down. They were married within a year. Haymitch, no elbows on the table."

Hearing that Haymitch pulled half his upper body over the table, chewing with his mouth open making Effie sit straighter up in her chair.

"Look at the size of that sheep," he said, voice muffled by his salmon sandwich.

"The… what?" said Effie.

"That's what it look like," said Haymitch, nodding towards her big, white hair. He swallowed the last of his sandwich and glanced out the window. The Capitol looked like a toy city from up here, with naked trees blinking with lights, snow covered public gardens, the barrage and the mountains stretching out in the distance. "Totally not worth going all the way up here for," he said.

"But the food is excellent?" said Effie.

He made a grunt, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with her but he'd finished his sandwich, starting in on another. Effie smiled to herself and then began telling him about the designer of her outfit and that subject excited her up to the point she forgot disapproving over his table manners and while he ate his salmon, tuning out most of what she was saying they found themselves actually having a good time.

"Mm," said Effie dabbing a napkin at the corners of her mouth. "We should have dessert. How about…"

She stopped mid-sentence and Haymitch looked up. Effie's eyes which just seconds ago had sparkled looking back at him were wide looking at something behind him.

"What?" said Haymitch.

"Don't turn around!" she hissed but he was already looking over his shoulder. A woman in a canary yellow dress had walked in, followed by an entourage of bizarre looking friends. When he turned back to Effie she was hiding her face behind one of the large pinkish leaves of the potted tree.

"What're you doing?"

"Lower your voice." Effie's eyes came visible over the edge of the leave and she whimpered. "She can't see us. I don't want to stay here. We have to leave."

"Come on. I haven't even gotten my drink yet."

"There are drinks at my house," said Effie behind her leaf. "Please, Haymitch."

"Who is she?" he asked, with Effie getting up from her seat, tugging at him. He gazed back at the woman in the canary yellow dress. She hadn't seen them yet as she was just getting seated. She looked to be twenty-or-something years old, small in stature, even shorter than Effie, with blonde hair and big boobs, mouth like a rosebud and wide opened blue eyes.

"The hell was that all about?" he asked when they were back in her apartment, with Effie by the drinking cabinet, trying to dodge his question by offering him wine but Haymitch didn't fall for the trick.

"Who is she?" he pressed.

"She's no one," said Effie, pouring herself a glass of wine, almost desperately, taking a sip. "You wouldn't know who she is."

"You ashamed of me? Is that it?" He didn't really care if it was true but it felt like the most plausible explanation.

"No," said Effie honestly, eyes begging him to let it go.

"What's she done? Wore the same dress as you?"

"Please, Haymitch. I don't want to talk about it."

The day wasn't the same after that. Effie tried keeping appearances up but he could tell the almost encounter with the blonde woman had made a dent in her good mood. He could see it in her eyes. How they would cloud over with sadness and she was miles away, like he'd so often seen her after the war.

And just like then, when she felt his eyes on her, she put on a smile, pretending like he hadn't just seen her like that.

"We wouldn't want to waste a day with such Christmassy weather."

She got to her feet lending him a muffler.

"You better dress warm."

"Give me a break, Eff. What do you have against this apartment?"

"I have planned something very special for us," Effie said with her most mysterious smile.

Haymitch sighed, throwing the muffler onto the coffee table.

 _Just one more day,_ he thought. _One more day and you'll be on that train and out of here forever.  
_  
Throughout the car ride Haymitch tried to get Effie to tell him where they were going but all she said was that he would see for himself.

And that he did. He saw it immediately, long before the car slowed down.

"You've got to be shitting me," Haymitch said, staring at the snow white rink, the Christmas trees in the corners and the fancily bundled up Capitolians dancing over the ice.

"It's so much fun," Effie smiled. "I loved ice-skating when I was a girl."

"Oh, just kill me now."

"We would like to rent two pair of skates", said Effie to the receptionist in the entrance hall. "One of them the size…"

"There's no fucking way I'm getting on that ice, Eff! I'll just end up in a hospital."

"It's perfectly safe", Effie said. "You get a helmet."

"I don't even know how!"

"I'll show you. Just give it a try, Haymitch. You might even enjoy yourself for once."

"How could you think I would enjoy this?"

"Just try it," she repeated. "I will help you."

"Yeah. You'll be the one scratching me off the ice with a shovel", said Haymitch.

"Oh, fuck," he growled once the skates were on and he took a shaking first step on to the ice. Of course everyone else has to be such bloody experts, he thought watching the others move so effortlessly over the rink.

Effie skated out on the ice herself, making a perfect pirouette with a bright smile. She wasn't wearing a helmet, he noted. Apparently Effie was too good looking to break her neck. His feet wobbled around, his hands shooting out to the sides to keep from face planting.

"Stop smirking at me and give me a hand!"

Effie skated over to him and took his arm but they'd only moved a few meters before he lost his balance and fell, hard.

"I told you this was a shitty idea!" Haymitch shouted, rubbing his neck, glaring at Effie whom had just barely managed to stay on her feet.

"You get used to it after a while", said Effie, helping him to his feet, brushing away the thin layers of snow from his jacket. "Look at me."

"Yeah, you're a real ice princess, princess", Haymitch snorted, legs shaking badly as he turned in the direction they'd come from to get off this ice, only to fall over again, lying on his stomach, failing to get up while practicing every swear in his repertoire.

She tried to keep him steady but it was useless. And for each time he hit the ice she saw his mood going for the worse. When he made a ridiculous half-pirouette, clanking the back of his head against the ice Haymitch wasn't speaking to her anymore.

Dinner that night was so quiet you could hear every ticking of the clock, every clatter of cutleries against the plates. Effie glanced at Haymitch's thunderous expression across the table, cutting her food in neat, unhappy motions. Nothing this weekend went according to plan.

They had some of his favorites, Haymitch noted. Pork chops with mashed potatoes and peas. All cater. Effie couldn't cook a meal to save her life, he thought unkindly – effortlessly keeping from thinking about the black ceiling over his own stove.

Finally Effie felt the need to try and clear the stifling atmosphere and she dabbed her mouth with a napkin, smiling at Haymitch.

"Despite it all I'm glad you're here."

Haymitch glared at her.

"'Despite it all'? What's that supposed to mean, sweetheart? What have I done? You've been bossing my ass around ever since I got here."

"I've just tried and…"

"Tried and get me to join in a few things, yeah," Haymitch said. "By doing stuff you wanna do. You're always like that. I said I didn't want to go to that party. Or ice-skate. You just don't listen. Probably prefer it when I shut up so you can talk uninterrupted."

"You don't have to sit here and be rude," mumbled Effie.

"Fine with me," said Haymitch and walked up from the table, tossing his napkin onto his plate. "Thanks for dinner."

The corners of Effie's lips were pointing downwards, her eyes fixed on the table as his footsteps disappeared down the hall.

Haymitch rubbed his hand irritably against his neck that still ached, the melted snow in his hair dripping inside his shirt. He found his way back to his room, looking through the drawers trying to find a bath towel. While continuing his bitter inner monologue, the thought of looking in the bathroom never even crossed his mind. So when he didn't find what he wanted he went over to Effie's room.

The sight of her outfits hanging in the closet and her perfume filling his nostrils only irritated him more. He looked through the dresser and then opened the cabinet above the closet, digging around. He felt something terry like and tugged it out.

And a box was flung out with it, burst opened when it hit the floor. Haymitch knelt down sweeping up the content. It looked like sewing stuff. Embroideries, attached to circular frames or lying loose.  
They looked old. Some of them showed pictures, others had names surrounded by flowers and birds and ladybugs.

He sat down on the bed looking more closely at them. _Effie Trinket,_ he read. Sometimes it was just _Euphemia_ or _Mommy and Daddy._ He must be looking at some of a little Effie Trinket's sewing projects from school or maybe that landlady/babysitter of hers had taught her.

You could follow her development. First there were the simple ones with easy images like a smiling face or a sun or a fish with backsides a web of threads and knots. And then there were the more elaborate ones as she got more practice, like a field of apple trees or a vase of red and yellow and purple and white tulips, or a cloudy sky full of umbrellas.

A smile crossed his lips and then he got out another embroidery and this one was unfinished. The needle and thread were still attached to the fabric, as if just put down and forgotten, parts of the flower pattern still yet to be added. The name was also just partly finished but he could read it just the same.

 _Alexander._

"What are you doing?"

Effie was at the door. She stared at him, at what he was holding. He gave a wave of the bundle of embroideries.

"The box fell out when I…"

Before he could finish the sentence Effie was there, whipping the embroideries out of his hand.

"What are you doing in my room?"

"Just looked for a towel," Haymitch frowned.

"There are towels in your bathroom! I told you that!"

"Geez, Eff. Overreacting much?" Haymitch got up from the bed, heading for the door. Halfway there he leaned down to pick up the box and the rest of the stuff under it but before he could Effie dove, smacking his hand.

"I'll do it!"

"What is your problem?" Haymitch shouted. "You're acting fucking psycho, Eff!"

"This is private! You don't go into someone bedroom and start looking through their possessions! Leave this instant!"

"Screw you!" Haymitch said and turned, slamming the door so hard the paintings rattled.

xXx

A round moon peeked through the curtains with Effie lying curled up on her side, eyes dry but her pillow wet from tears.

It had been a moon just like this the day of her rescue, pale and frozen up in the sky. She'd been slipping in and out of consciousness then but she remembered the echo of feet and the rough voice that she recognized even though it sounded so far from home. And someone draped a jacket around her, carrying her like she'd been a bird that had fallen out of its nest and she'd opened her eyes and there was Haymitch, with the moon in his hair.

And suddenly the self-loathing was threatening to choke her and she pulled the blanket up over her face as if that would make the feeling disappear, make herself disappear.  
She hadn't even thanked Haymitch for saving her. She knew keeping her alive had been directly against President Coin's initial orders but he'd saved her still and looked out for her in a world where both sides saw her as a traitor. He didn't have to do what he'd done. Many had wanted her dead, maybe even most of them. So much could have gone wrong and yet she'd been spared and when her nights were at their worst, – even years after the war had ended – when she didn't think she'd ever feel happy again she'd often wanted to call him because somehow she knew he'd understand.

She pulled away the blanket and got out of bed.

"Haymitch?" she said, when standing outside his bedroom, tapping her fingers against the door. "Haymitch, may I come in?"

There was not a sound from within and after a few moments Effie opened the door.  
The room was empty. All the clothes spread over the floor and chairs and dressers were gone, his bag, even the empty bottles on the nightstand. A lump rose in her throat. Had he really just left? Jumped on the bus outside her apartment and taken the train back home? Her eyes went to the wall clock and before she would allow any tears to fall she dressed, getting her keys.

By the time the cab slowed down outside the train station snow had begun to fall in an unbelievable amount, making it hard to see more than a few meters.  
She got out of the car and after telling the driver to wait for her she hurried out, praying the train wouldn't have left yet, that he'd still be here.

Her prayers were half-granted. The train had left around the time of their ice skate disaster. But Haymitch was nowhere to be found. Not in any of the waiting areas, not by the benches outside the entrance, not on the stairs, not on any of the platforms. He'd been there though, according to the receptionist who remembered the oddly dressed man with his bag clinking with bottles.

"But it was a while ago," she said and that's when worry clutched on to Effie's insides. The Capitol was a maze at night even for those whom had lived here all their lives. And Haymitch with a bag of bottles, in this cold weather…

"Do you know where he went?" she asked and when the receptionist pointed she said a quick thank you and hurried in that direction.

"Haymitch?" she called, trying to see through the snow and to keep from being run down by the bobbing sea of umbrellas. "Haymitch?"

Her foot clinked against something and she looked down seeing one snow covered bottle you wouldn't be able to buy in the Capitol. And she hadn't more than picked it up before spotting another one further out.

xXx

The stars were gone.

Not that he'd thought much about it but he was pretty sure they had stars. Haymitch brought the bottle to his lips wondering where they'd gone. He stretched out with a grunt, sloppily wiping away snow from his face. The trees stood dark and silent around him and the snow was melting through the back of his jacket and pants, as he lay sprawled out on the snow drift where he'd been ever since he tumbled over.

It wasn't too bad here. He sucked on his bottle, dazedly looking up at the moon fighting to shine through the snow over the treetops.  
Somewhere in the darkness a voice called. At first, he didn't bother about it but as it got closer, Haymitch's eyebrows came together. Because he recognized that voice and it wasn't supposed to be heard in Twelve.

A small figure appeared through the snow, getting closer, calling his name. Haymitch grunted and rolled over to his side, away from the sound.

"Haymitch!" Effie called, almost tripped on the ice and the many empty bottles surrounding him. "Haymitch!" She knelt beside him, hand against his cold face, trying to make him look at her. "You have to get inside, right now!"

"Stop screaming," he mumbled.

"It's December! You can't lie here and be covered in snow! You will freeze to death!"

"Serves you right."

"Come now," she said, putting his arm around her shoulders, helping him to sit with Haymitch muttering at her, his breath coming out like puffs of white smoke.

The cab driver was less than thrilled when Effie finally showed up, with Haymitch leaning heavily against her and throughout the drive back he kept warning them not to dare puke on his leather car seats.

Haymitch barely noticed. Not the car ride, not being half-carried through Effie's apartment, not when she deposited him on his bed.

"You scared me to death," Effie said, unbuttoning and tugged his shirt off, doing the same with his pants, revealing a pair of washed out boxers. His skin was like ice and she dug out all the blankets she could find draping them around him. Haymitch's teeth had started chattering and she sat down on the bed, tucking him in like he'd suggested for her over the phone. She took one of his red swollen hands warming it between hers.

His eyes were half shut but he tried to focus them on her. When she let go of his hand to do the same with the other he reached out, fingers sloppily grazing against the fabric of the cloth she had wrapped around her head.

"Let me see," he slurred, trying to tug it off but he was too drunk and too cold to get a good grip. Effie pulled his hand away gently but he just tried again, eyebrows knitted together in his effort to make his hand cooperate. "I wanna see you," he mumbled.

"It's nothing to see, Haymitch," said Effie. "Try and get some sleep and we can forget this night."

"I wanna see. Please."

Effie sighed but since she was sure he wouldn't remember any of this the next day she pushed Haymitch hand down and under the cover and then her hands went to her head, slowly starting to unwrap the bandana.  
He had his eyes focused on her now, as the layers of cloth unfolded, revealing more and more of what was underneath and then there were showers of curls, a little damp and untidy from being stuffed under the cloth.

Haymitch didn't say anything for so long she thought he'd just fallen asleep, when he reached out again, stroking a strand of hair between his fingers, his knuckles just brushing against her cheek. Effie smiled but her eyes were filled with sadness and regret.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch," she said.

"I'm sorry too," mumbled Haymitch. His hand fell back onto the bed and he drifted off to sleep.

xXx

Being woken at the crack of dawn by someone's arm smacking his face and seeing Effie sleeping next to him had almost scared the hangover out of Haymitch.  
But as the fragments of yesterday slowly came together again and he remembered Effie had just gotten his drunk ass back to his room, staying with him until he fell asleep, like so many times before his shoulders relaxed a little. Fucking Effie would be fun, he had no doubt. Didn't make it a good idea.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, looking back at Effie and the messy curls all over her face.

During their years together he'd seen her without makeup several times and once with nothing but a towel when he'd dashed into her bathroom to empty his stomach in her toilet but somehow she'd always managed to keep her hair from him. Truth be told he'd been extremely curious about her natural hair and at times, often just before the alcohol had soaked him completely, tried to guess the color or trick her to reveal it to him or, when that failed, loudly slur that she must be bald.  
More than once he'd thought that maybe she simply looked like shit underneath, having hair like cobweb or like the beard lichen on the trees back home.

And then she turned out to have the softest kind of reddish blonde hair, glistening in the winter sun. Sweet as sleep syrup.

She was terrible to have in bed though. Seriously. When she wasn't moving around as if there was not a spot in this large bed that was comfortable enough she was mumbling unconnected monologues to herself, kicking him, elbowing him, smacking his face with her forearm and then when she realized there was a warm body next to her she snuggled up close to him, arm wrapped over his chest.  
Most of the blankets were a bundle at the feet of the bed but he swore he could still see the air quiver with heat.

"Eff," he muttered, trying to inch his way out of bed without waking her up so he could go nurse his hangover with the remaining bottles in his bag, but as soon as he moved Effie tightened her grip around him in her sleep, keeping him in place.

He reached out an arm, managing to at least open a window, just an inch to get some air inside. But it was enough to make Effie stir next to him, blinking awake. She gave a start when feeling someone under her hands but then she recognized him.

"Oh. Good morning, Haymitch," she said, drawing back so they wouldn't lie so close together. "How are you feeling?"

He'd expected a lecture about last night but there was no anger in Effie's eyes, just concern when looking at him and embarrassment, for waking up in his arms probably. He found his own anger all gone too. Like morning mist when the day warmed up. Add the fact he'd gotten a night of relatively undisturbed sleep, even with Effie kicking him and he was in a far better mood than he used to be in the morning. The train would leave in just about two hours and he was surprised over how strongly he didn't want to leave now when he finally would.

He must have stared at it because Effie touched her hair self-consciously, as if not knowing what to do with it.

"I don't look awful, do I?"

"I've seen worse," said Haymitch. "Bet my money you'd be blonde though, not a redhead."

"Strawberry blonde," said Effie, smiling a little. "That's what my mother always called it."

She made him company to the train station when the time came and Effie finally seemed to have run out of things to talk about, giving Haymitch's ears a nice rest for a change. But when he was about to board the train she clutched his arm, stopping him from leaving and he realized her eyes shone with tears.

"Will you ever come back, Haymitch?" she asked, taking him by surprise.

"I… sure. If you want me to."

"I'm sorry if you've been miserable here", she mumbled. "I just wanted to make your first stay with me memorable. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"I did have fun, Effs," Haymitch said. "No need to get so upset." He leaned in and kissed her forehead before boarding the train. "See ya sometime."

Effie nodded, fearing she would tear up if she spoke. She waved at him when the train was set in motion, taking Haymitch back to District 12. And despite all their drama, she couldn't help but wish she'd been with him.

 **Author's Note: A much longer chapter this time. Hope you had as much fun reading it as I had writing it. Please leave a review if you like and tell me what you think.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
New Year

The air hadn't been breathable in Haymitch's house since Hazelle's days, thought Katniss when she crossed the threshold. She zigzagged between bundles of dirty clothes, shattered glass and pools of liquor, her foot clanked into a bottle, sending it rolling over the dust bunnies and she crouched by the hearth to make a fire and keep Haymitch from catching his death in here.

The phone which had been heard on and off across the Victor's Village for the past hour started ringing again by the time a flame danced up from the coals and she heard a groan from behind. She turned seeing Haymitch on the couch, a flowery sofa cushion bleached from years in the sun, pressed over his head.

"You know it helps if you answer it," she said.

Another groan and Katniss got to her feet and pulled the cushion away revealing a face that would make a less prepared person jump back.

"Morning Haymitch," she said, watching Haymitch's red-rimmed eyes squint up at her, just as the phone silenced again and they heard Peeta's voice.

"Well, hi, Effie. How are you?"

Haymitch sat up and despite the pounding inside his skull he waved both arms at Peeta like someone trying to keep from being run down by a car.

"Sure, he's here," the boy said, looking amusedly back at Haymitch, handing the phone over to him.

"What?" Haymitch said into the receiver, hearing Katniss and Peeta close the door after themselves when they left.

"Is that a way to answer the phone?" said Effie. "You ought to at least say hello when you pick up."

Haymitch grunted and reached for one of the bottles on the coffee table, trying to snap the seal while cradling the phone between his neck and shoulder.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I wanted to…"

The phone clanked against the empties by his feet when he dropped it.

"Haymitch?" he heard Effie's voice on the floor.

He opened his bottle and swallowed a mouthful, spitting into a clean spot on a soiled shirt, ridding some of the foul taste in his mouth.

"Haymitch? Are you there?"

He grabbed the phone from the floor.

"What?"

"Have you been drinking?" she asked and Haymitch would have rolled his eyes if he hadn't been so hangover.

"No, I just got back from my morning run," he said. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to wish you a merry Christmas."

"Christmas's over, sweetheart."

"I know, but you didn't answer when I called yesterday. Did you enjoy yourself?"

Haymitch rubbed his fingers over his eyes. He didn't even remember much of yesterday. Katniss and Peeta used to make him join them for Christmas, but they couldn't carry him out on a stretcher. That's what he told Effie and she sucked in a breath.

"How could you not have celebrated Christmas, Haymitch? That's the most depressing thing I've ever heard. Christmas is supposed to be celebrated with friends and family…"

"Can't say I have either of those, sweetheart."

"Of course you do. What about Katniss and Peeta? What about me?"

"Wow. So we're friends now?"

"Of course we are. It's really hurtful you're even questioning it. And you do plan on celebrating New Year's Eve at least?"

"Why?"

"Why ever not? People in District 12 celebrates New Year's, don't they? And I don't want to think about you being drunk and alone in your house on such a day. That would completely upset my digestion."

"We'll see," said Haymitch, bringing the bottle to his lips.

xXx

Effie must have been very keen on having an undisturbed digestion because within a day she'd gone and invited herself to the Victor's Village for New Year's.

She claimed it was Peeta who invited her, but it was gate crashing nonetheless. That's what Haymitch told her when the train pulled into the station and Effie took his arm, smiling sunnily at him.

"But think about how nice it will be," she said and seemed to have forgotten all about their disastrous Capitol weekend. "The four of us all together, welcoming a brand new year."

She kept talking with him about this and that on their way to the Victor's Village while curiously looking around, as she'd never seen District 12 during the festive seasons.

When Christmas arrived at the Capitol they had the trees decorated with twinkling lights, spotlights showered many of the buildings in different colorful patterns, always changing. A gigantic Christmas tree was put up on Heaven's Square, studded with more lights, thick silver tinsels and icicles. And if you wanted to escape the cold after a long day out you could always go drink hot chocolate or toddy at one of the many coffee houses or eat roasted chestnuts or burnt almonds from street stalls, making your breath all hot and sugary.  
The city was never really still, never really quiet and she'd often fallen asleep to the sound of people caroling on the streets ever since she was a little girl.

District 12 looked like she remembered it from her visit before the Victory Tour. Well, not quite. There were sheaves of wheat fastened to poles outside many of the houses with mockingjays hoping about, chirping and picking, the snowy ground sprinkled with yellow seeds. There were snowmen and heaps of snowballs glowing from within in people's gardens and mats of fir twigs on their doorstep, to scrape your shoes clean before entering probably. And so all the snow. On the roofs, the trees, the meadows. White as far as the eye could see.

Smoke was rising from the chimneys when they arrived at the Victor's Village. From Haymitch's house too, but Effie didn't notice that until she was about to knock on the children's door, realizing Haymitch was by his own home.

"Katniss and Peeta," she began.

"They're at the bakery," he said and went inside, taking the bag he'd helped carry for her with him.

He bet she was forming a comment in her mind about his poor standard of living while crossing the space between the two houses and he heard her gasp when she entered.

"What, sweetheart?"

"It's just… so…"

"Clean?"

Effie stared around the kitchen. The chattered glass was gone, the floor lighter than she'd ever seen it, the kitchen sink shining in the sunlight. Clean curtains were put up before clean windows, a fresh cloth spread over the table.

"How did you manage to get it so nice?" Effie mumbled. "It's so welcoming and cozy." She smiled at Haymitch. "Did you do all of this for me?"

"Under penalty of death by Peeta."

There was even a Christmas tree in a corner, decorated with candy canes and apples on string, frilly paper angels and pine cones. She admired it for a long moment.

"Did you and Katniss and Peeta decorate it together?" she asked and Haymitch could hear on her voice she liked that thought.

"Mm."

"You know what we should do?" she said and Haymitch frowned when he heard the eagerness in her voice. "We should throw a big New Year's dinner party here and everyone would see what a lov…"

The exhausted expression on his face cut Effie off. She was silent for a long moment, perhaps remembering Haymitch on the run from his birthday.

"What if it's just us?" she said. "And… maybe the Hawthorne family?"

"They're in Two."

Haymitch sank down on the couch and Effie took a seat across from him, sitting like a queen on his armchair where the stuffing showed here and there.

"It's a wonderful day," she said. "We should not waste it. I could show you my new winter outfits or we could go for a walk or how about a nice cup of tea?"

"Nope," said Haymitch, his stomach churning at the very thought of the stuff Effie called tea. "You decided everything we did at the Capitol, Eff, so I get to chose what we're gonna do here."

"What do you want to do then?" Effie asked. "And Haymitch, remember," she added quickly. "I never meant for you to fall on the ice or get lost in the park so you don't have to chose the thing you hope I would want to do the least just as a revenge."

Haymitch raised his eyebrows at her.

"I was gonna say we go join the kids and you'll see the bakery. But now when you say it, we're gonna go… hiking," he said, uttering the first thing that came to mind.

"Hiking?" said Effie.

"Hiking," said Haymitch. "There's a hill not far from here with a view of a valley. You like that, don't ya?"

"We can't go climb a mountain in this weather. Have you seen how much snow it is outside? No, that's out of the question."

"That's sad," said Haymitch with a sigh. "Not much left for me to do then except getting drunk, I guess."

A crease appeared between Effie's eyebrows.

"There's no need for you to drink, Haymitch."

"Well, I wanted to go sit by the hillside and drink coffee with you but I guess I'll have to make do with the booze."

He got up from the sofa and into the kitchen and when he returned he brought with him a bottle of white liquor and a glass.

"Why do you want to go hiking?" Effie asked.

"Don't wanna go hiking," Haymitch said. "I'm drinking."

The liquor purled into the glass and Haymitch emptied the lot right in front of her making Effie frown. He refilled his glass and raised it to her in salute, making satisfied noises as he drank. He tipped the bottle up again.

"Stop!" Effie said, hand on his arm. "Stop drinking! I'll go with you if it's so important." She huffed in irritation for rising to his provocation and palpated her wig, lips pressed together. "At least I get to wear my newest winter outfit. I had it especially made for the cold winters here."

He showed Effie to her room upstairs and went to make coffee and then he had to wait almost forty minutes for her to get ready. When she finally did show up Haymitch rolled his eyes at the sight of her.

"It's the latest in fashion," she said, throwing her arms out.

Of course it is, he thought. Because like everything in Effie's wardrobe, the oddly shaped cross between a dress and a suit she wore looked more decorative than functional; not suited for Twelve in December by a long shot.

"Ask Katniss if you can borrow her snowsuit", he said. "We have some walking to do."

"Yes, I thought that we might. That's why I'm wearing this."

"You'll freeze your ass off."

"I'm perfectly equipped, Haymitch."

He snorted.

"What's going to be really interesting is watching you hiking," she said.

"Suit yourself," said Haymitch. He wasn't going to waste his breath on Effie if she insisted on being an idiot. "Just don't get all whiny on me later when I can use you as ice in my scotch."

It really was quite cold Effie noticed when they got outside. But she followed in Haymitch's tracks when he headed for the woods and told herself she'd warm up as they walked.

"Where is that mountain exactly?" she asked once they were surrounded by trees on all sides.

"It's a hill," Haymitch called over his shoulder.

"It's, it's too much snow," Effie said, already getting behindhand. "Wait!"

Haymitch waited and when Effie joined him her cheeks had reddened from the cold and the effort of walking in snow that reached her mid-calf.

"How much further?" she asked.

"Seriously? We just left the house," said Haymitch, already starting to regret his decision but he headed on without another word and Effie walked in the footsteps he plowed up. Even though he was taller than her Haymitch felt himself getting a little out of breath as they left District 12 behind.

The trees were clothed in white after the great snowfalls of the last few days. You could see the sun but it was dim, like a lamp behind a shower curtain and the silence was only interrupted by the occasional mockingjay. Well, except…

"I can't see any mountains," said Effie. "Are you sure this is the right direction? How much further?"

Sweat was trickling down his back. He stopped to let Effie catch up and for himself to catch his breath.

"How much further?" asked Effie. She looked absolutely frozen. "I've got snow I my shoes," she said just as the wind blew up more of the stuff in their faces and Effie whimpered. "I've been travelling all day! You could at least have let me settle down first. We could have made some tea with honey and cardamom and sat by the fire and have an interesting conversation and maybe some of Peeta's rolls with strawberry jam. But instead we are plodding through the snow looking for a mountain you're forcing me to climb just to annoy me!"

A heavy snow began and even with Effie's constant complaints about everything from the snow to the wind to Haymitch's lack in response he kept walking deeper into the wild and Effie kept following. It was a beautiful winter day really, despite Effie's nagging and the wind that made them squint. He could see Effie holding her yellow wig in place with one hand while trying to blow some warmth onto the other.

"You know, in the Capitol we have sightseeings," she said, trying to hide the fact that she was panting. "Hovertrains take you around the mountains. We could do that. We'll go back to the Victor's Village now and then, the next time you visit…"

"Don't tell me you're already giving up, sweetheart?" said Haymitch. "The Effie Trinket can't handle a little snow?"

"Little snow," muttered Effie.

OK, a lot of snow, thought Haymitch. It hadn't been as cold when the air was still and clear but now the snow came down heavily, the icy wind numbing their faces.

"Let's turn back, Haymitch," said Effie.

"We're almost there."

"No, we're not! Let's go back now before it gets worse!"

"I'm telling ya, it's not far. Soon we'll turn left and then…"

"You can hardly even tell where left is at this point!" Effie yelled.

But it wasn't until they had a full blown snowstorm on their hands that Haymitch finally admitted defeat and they turned around to get back to the Victor's Village.

The snow hit them mercilessly, making it almost impossible to keep your eyes open. They staggered on as Haymitch tried to follow their tracks back but their footprints were already almost completely gone.

"I hope for your own sake you know where we are, Haymitch!"

"Ever heard the words pain and ass put into a sentence, Eff?"

"Just concentrate on getting us back!"

But that wasn't as easy anymore. What little he could see through the whiteness was just the deep woods.

 _This is bad._

He rubbed his hand over his eyes, gasping for breath as the wind seemed to suck the very oxygen out of the air.

"Just keep going," he called, having to shout to be heard. But he was talking to no one because Effie wasn't beside him anymore. "Eff?" he shouted and for the first time since all of this had happened he felt a real stab of fear. "Effie? Eff!"

"Here," said a voice and she materialized behind a tree and his fright was instantly replaced by anger.

"Don't wander off like that, damn it!"

"My wig," Effie said as she plodded towards him, holding her snow covered wig in her hands. "The wind took it and…"

"Who cares about your sheep, Eff? We have to stay together!" he said and took her by the hand pulling her to him. He didn't mean to be so rough but Effie yelped out when she staggered several steps forward. Haymitch grunted something and held her gentler but still firmly as if afraid she'd be taken right out of his hand; blown away by the wind.  
They kept trudging forward, hand in hand, like a pair of lost children, the wind squeezing tears from their eyes.

The forest should have thinned out by now if they were walking in the right direction. Shit, he could barely see anything. Not the trees, not any lights from the houses, not anything but the whiteness that pained his face. But he felt Effie's hand clutching his; evidence that she was still there.

"Where are we? I can't see where we are." The annoyance had left her voice, revealing the fright underneath. He heard her whimper, making him remember that if he felt cold it could be nothing compared to Effie, dressed as she was in that idiotic get-up.

"It's just a bit further," he said.

It must be. He'd go insane if it wasn't. If each step he took just brought her deeper and deeper into the wild. Why had he taken them out hiking? Why the fuck had he taken them out hiking!  
He rubbed his hand over his eyes again, ridding his face from ice crystals and that's when he saw it.

"What is it?" said Effie when he stopped.

"A… a house."

A small one, embedded in snow but he felt its unyielding concrete surface against his palm.  
They climbed over the snow that had filled the entrance where the door used to be and there were drifts of more snow under all the gaping holes of windows. One window was intact though, if only barely, leaving a spot where you could still see the floor and with the help of an icy log and a old twig broom, he made a place for them and they collapsed next to each other, panting for breath.

"What are we going to do?" said Effie.

"Can't do a thing, sweetheart." Haymitch rubbed his hands together, trying to get some warmth into them. "Just wait for Katniss and Peeta to find us."

"But that could be hours from now." Effie dug her chilled fingers into the wig on her lap, not caring how she ruffled it.

"The weather's as bad in town as it is here. They'll know we're in trouble pretty fast."

"Then they will just get as lost as we are!" said Effie and Haymitch winced at the sound of her shrill voice.

"They'll come with a search party."

"We don't know where we are. How can you expect them to find us?"

"They'll come OK, what do you want from me?" Haymitch barked. "There's nothing we can do but wait until someone finds us. And quit the damn whining, alright? I don't need any headaches right now."

Effie looked about to say something else but then the energy seemed to just go out of her and she wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face against them. The snowy wind getting in through three broken windows and the door were losing up more and more of her real hair that she'd fastened with pins.

"You'll only freeze more if you're all stiff like that," Haymitch said.

Effie lifted her head, staring at him. Her teeth chattered between parted lips.

"Then what am I supposed to do? I'm freezing and I hate being cold, Haymitch!"

"Should've borrowed Katniss's snowsuit like I told you."

"Yes, and that's really helpful now! They won't find us," she said. "Not when we'll be buried under the snow. Or when night comes and it has gotten a lot colder than it is now, or when the r-roof collapses in on us."

"No, Effie. They'll find up, I promise."

"You don't know that!" she said and she squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face against her arms, shaking in every limb. Haymitch sighed.

"Come here," he said. Effie looked up, seeing him starting to unzip his jacket and she inched close to him without a word so he could zip it around them both. He leaned against the wall with Effie trembling like a puppy in the rain, close to his body. He reached up and pulled out the pins that held together her already half-loose strawberry blonde hair, letting it fall down her shoulder and over her ear and cheek. He felt the scent from her hair, a whiff like summer and bubble bath and he wrapped his arms around her.

"Tell me something," said Effie through the sound of her clattering teeth.

"What?"

"Anything. Just so I don't have to think about what will happen to us."

"Nothing will happen to us, sweetheart. We just have to stick this out until they find us."  
Effie buried her face in his sweater, the fabric dampening when she sighed deeply onto it.

"Tell me something," she mumbled again.

"I don't have any 'How I Got Prim the goat' stories," Haymitch said because this was really getting ironic.

She mumbled something else, words muffled by his sweater.

"What?"

"I'm sorry for every time I was mean to you."

Haymitch gave a bark of laughter.

"Effs, we've been here for like five minutes."

"I'm sorry when I yelled at your or reprimanded you and when I forced you to ice skate and… and… whenever I gave you a hard time. I'm sorry that…"

"Princess," said Haymitch, "don't tell me things you're gonna regret later. You're not gonna die here. You're just Capitol spoiled."

"Hm."

Haymitch smiled and then he remembered something. He sat up straighter and began unzipping his jacket.

"No," mumbled Effie, hand around a fistful of his sweater but he kept unzipping, releasing them and reach for his bag.

"Coffee?" she said, looking like she might marry him when Haymitch unscrewed the lid of a thermos. "Oh, you are so foresighted, Haymitch!"

"Wow. Two compliments in one day."

He poured coffee into a cup, handing it to Effie who wrapped her hands around it, almost teary when feeling its warmth.

"You didn't even want to hike," she said, taking a sip. "You just thought it would be the last thing in the world I would want to do."

Haymitch smirked, pouring himself a cup.

"And still you came along just cause I said so."

"Only because I thought we would have a nice winter picnic not far from the house. Not get lost in the woods and freeze to death in an abandoned cabin."

Effie sighed, sitting awkwardly in her outfit and sipping her coffee, until she looked back gloomily at her own distorted reflection at the bottom of the mug. Haymitch refilled it to her and then there was nothing left in the thermos. The small amount of warmth it'd given them seemed to leach out of their bodies right into the stone floor and there was nothing left to do except zip themselves together in Haymitch's jacket again.

The sight was next no none outside and the temperature continued to drop as the hours passed. Shit, he'd give every bottle in his house to sit in front of the fireplace right know. Each intake of breath hurt and his teeth just wouldn't stop chattering.

"My entire body has gone numb," Effie mumbled.

"J-just try and think about something else," Haymitch said.

"Like what?"

How much time had passed? Surely Katniss and Peeta must know they were in trouble by now? Fuck. He should've told them where they were going. Effie was right. This had been a shitty idea.

"T-talk to me, Eff," he said. "You make me nervous when you're not insisting on manners."

"I don't k-know what to talk about," Effie said.

"Tell me… tell me what we're gonna do when we get back to the Capitol."

"We're never going back to the Capitol," Effie whispered.

"Yeah, we will. Tell me what we're gonna do."

Effi inhaled shallowly, burrowing deeper into his jacket.

"I would t-take you to the Caldarium."

"What's that?"

"A spa. One of our best. Jacuzzis in five sizes. Warm, fragrant water full of bubbles, hot steaming rooms, getting full body massages with oil or honey or melted chocolate."

"Chocolate?"

"Yes." It came out like a sigh.

"What good is that?"

"It's refreshing and good for the skin."

"Huh. And I who thought you guys only used it in the bedroom."

"I never use melted chocolate in the bedroom," Effie said. "Too messy."

"There's a better alternative?"

"I'd… Oh, hush."

Haymitch grinned.

"When do you think they'll find us?" Effie asked.

"Once they've figured out we're in the woods it'll probably just take…"

"Wait, what?" said Effie. "You didn't tell them where we were going?"

"Didn't think I had to."

"But then who knows how long… What if we'll have to spend the night here?"

"There's only so many places we can be, Eff," he said, trying to say so casually but knew she must be thinking the same thing he was. That if the temperature continued to drop at this rate and Katniss and Peeta didn't show up they'd really be in trouble.

And it was darkening outside. He'd hoped the storm would blow itself out but the weather wasn't changing other than the fact it was getting colder. He brushed away the snow settling on them regularly but it just came more through the door and windows.

 _We're not in trouble,_ he told himself. _Katniss knows these woods. She must know about this cabin. She'd know I'd take Effie here if I saw it. We're not in trouble.  
_  
But the hours passed, nothing changed and no one came. When Effie's trembling body suddenly stilled in his arms he called out her name sharply, his voice raspy with the effort.

"No," mumbled Effie.

"Tell me somethin'."

"No."

"Y-yes! Tell me something."

"I don't have any more stories."

"Tell me whatever you want. Eff!" he called when she didn't answer, lying unmoving against his chest. "Effie!"

"Let me be," she mumbled.

"Eff, you can't go to sleep, you know that! And I'll… I'll tell you a story."

Fuck, he was so cold all his thoughts seemed jumbled up, like it took twice as much time to sort them out before uttering them.

"Y-you remember… during the Games? Swamp year. You remember that last night?"

Effie who'd kept her eyes closed up until now blinked them open, and her fingers stroked only momentarily against his chest. Of course she remembered. She'd never forget.

It was one of the few years when they'd actually gotten a sponsor to the table. And not just any sponsor. A legend. A real Capitol grande dame, nearly a hundred years old, who had backed tributes since the birth of the Hunger Games.

She'd hardly even deigned Haymitch with a glance, despite him being the mentor and the one to seal the sponsor deals but before she left she'd squeezed Effie's hand, saying the Games Headquarters might just be getting a phone call of recommendation soon.

She'd paced the penthouse that last day, unable to think about anything else other than the fact she could finally be getting The letter this year. She'd heard the other escorts talk about it often and it was always delivered the last day of the Games season, hand written in ink on parchment with the seal of Panem and given to the escorts or stylists when they were to be promoted.

She was so nervous yet so certain she would get that letter. So when the penthouse remained deserted, when the time finally told her she'd been mistaken, that yet again they didn't think her efforts were worth anything, it stroke her hard. So brutally, painfully, mercilessly hard.

When Haymitch entered the sitting room an hour later he found a red-eyed Effie by herself on the sofa. When she saw him and the bottle in his hand she rose from the couch, in no mood to let Haymitch know about her misfortune just so he could mock her about it. But he asked her why she was crying and his voice hadn't been sneering at all, on the contrary. He'd sounded kind and considerate and it was so unexpected Effie found herself blurting out everything that had happened. And Haymitch hadn't interrupted her with any snide remarks, had even given her small comments of encouragement and then he walked over to the gigantic menu by the bar mumbling into the mouthpiece bringing them white wine and chocolate cake. And they'd spent the night together in that sitting room, just enjoying the pastries and talking.

And Effie told him things she'd never voiced out to anyone before. Her feelings when first attending the job, the mocks and prejudices she'd had to fight off from the other escorts, about how she sometimes felt like no one appreciated her or took her seriously and why, why, with all her efforts and hard work, she never seemed to be good enough for anything but the coal district. She was aware that maybe she hadn't been completely well mannered during that conversation but Haymitch hadn't mocked her for it, he'd let her get everything out of her chest and his presence and his words had made her feel better, much better because it had been one of those times she'd been positive Haymitch Abernathy really did care about her.

"I remember," said Effie. "And that chocolate cake was really delicious."

"Well," said Haymitch. "There's something I never told you about that."

"What do you mean?"

"I knew they intended to promote you. Plutarch told me. So I put on my best suit, went up to the Headquarters and advised them not to do it."

What he'd just said was so outrageous and Effie was so chilled to the bones it took a moment for the words to sink in. Then he felt her stirring.

"Wait," she mumbled. "Wait a minute. Wait just one minute!"

She tried to get up from their zipped-in position, but were unable to without opening the jacket and he felt her fingernails digging into his chest.

"You did what!?"

It was almost funny to watch Effie go from lying numbly against his chest to this woman, spitting mad, so furious it made her forget how cold she was, which was the very reason he'd revealed all that.

"Why did you do that?" She still couldn't properly meet eyes with him because of the jacket that she – despite everything – seemed reluctant to unzip, but her breathing was hot against his throat.

 _Because I needed you to stay with me. Because you were too associated with me and I didn't dare to lose you out of sight.  
_  
"I would have said no, Haymitch! I would have stayed with District 12. You know I would!"

"So I fixed it. You're welcome, Eff."

"Oh, Haymitch! When we get out of here I will…"

A golden square of light appeared, wandering across the wall, effectively cutting Effie off.

"It's them?"

Haymitch rubbed his sleeve against the one remaining window. He couldn't see much but he did see the lights and in the distance there were voices, calling.

"Oh, it's them," Effie said and she almost cried with relief, as Haymitch tried to unzip the jacket with stiff fingers. "Thank goodness, Haymitch. I'm not going to die in the woods with you!"

The fireplace had never been a more welcomed sight when Katniss and Peeta placed their half frozen ex-mentor and escort in a pair of armchairs, draping quilts around them and putting mugs of broth in their hands. Effie teeth clattered as she tried taking tiny sips of the warm beverage. Her wig was back on but she'd gotten to borrow a woolen cardigan from Haymitch. It was too big on her and she was sure to look drab but she pulled the shawl collars together, burrowing into it, in no hurry to give it back.

"I'm never going out in the woods ever again," she said. She looked to Haymitch. "I should have known better than getting attached to people whose roads aren't asphalted."

xXx

The following days went by more or less peacefully over at the kids' house, with only Effie bustling about going over the menu for their New Year's dinner and decorations.  
Haymitch was mostly in the way but he went into town when they needed stuff and then he played chess with Peeta watching Effie flit about the rooms in full escort mode. It was just the clipboard that was missing.

They spent one afternoon, well into the night dipping candles. They sat at the kitchen table making pomander balls by sticking cloves into oranges hanging them up by bright red ribbons in the windows so its fresh scent could fill the rooms.

And when New Year's Day arrived crisp and cold, she forced Haymitch to sweep the floor and make paths between the houses with the sun glittering off his shovel and the icicles hanging from the rain gutters.

But he'd had worse dinners, he'd give her that. Even if he had to wash the food down with sparkling water after she managed to bribe him into a sober New Year's by promising eight bottles of his favourite Capitol whiskey when she returned. They spread the table with a fresh cloth and laden it with plates of wild turkey and rice cooked together in a thick sauce with carrots and cream and almonds. Most of dinner Haymitch and Peeta sat trying not to choke on their food, listening to Effie's hilarious small talk with Katniss.

"I must say, Haymitch," Effie smiled, half-through. "I'm having a really nice time."

"You sound surprised, sweetheart."

"Oh, no. I've always been convinced you must have nice moments in District 12 too. And see, I was right!" she beamed, reaching for the water jug, refilling his glass.

"Glad to hear it," said Haymitch, leaning back in his chair. "Cause you know how it ends, don't ya?"

"Hm?" said Effie, who had already turned to Katniss and Peeta. "Would you like some more sparkling water, dear ones?"

"Stroke of midnight will be at the Hob," said Haymitch and Peeta's glass spilled over its edges.

As long as any of them could remember, the people in the Seam joined together at the Hob on New Year's, where the fire and company and the warmth of a cup of clear broth could almost make you forget just how miserable your life was, if only for a moment. It'd been a Seam thing when the building was still located there, not far from where Haymitch's old house had been, but after they rebuilt the Hob closer in town it'd turned into something of a tradition for the whole district.

Effie was nervous, even though she tried to hide it. He could tell just by the way she clutched his arm on their slow walk into town. And who could blame her? He wondered if she'd ever actually talked to anyone in Twelve apart from them and the mayor when not standing on the stage at the reaping. But everyone already knew she was back and if she was going to keep coming back, might as well introduce her standing on the ground.

Effie shivered, looking enviously at Haymitch's sturdy jacket. It was so quiet, she swore she could hear his heartbeat. The road glittered in the moonlight, the night sky stretching out endlessly above them. She'd never really paid proper attention to the stars until her return in District 12 after the war. You could never see them from the Capitol – although they did have starlight installations in some areas on special occasions – and whenever she'd been on the train in the late hours during the Games her eyes had so often been glued to her clipboard. But the starry sky above them now twinkled and glittered in a way that would put even the most excellent jeweller to shame and she craned her neck, a definitely easier task now when she was wearing a bandana instead of a wig.

People looked their way when Effie entered the Hob with Haymitch and Katniss and Peeta but it was mostly looks of mild interest, if none at all, before people returned to their drinks and food and conversations. Place was full of people standing in groups or sitting by the tables or being squeezed together on the sofa. Some of the children sat on the rug in front of the fireplace, sharing an orange from one of the many bowls around the room. The flames on the hearth reflected itself in their eyes.

She was called Greasy Sae, the woman running the eatery – such a peculiar name – and when she wasn't taking people's food orders she talked with Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch; the sound of more people at her back, working in the kitchen.

It was strange watching Haymitch on Hob ground. There was an air of mutual respect between the people here, Effie noticed. Of knowing where you had each other. And even if Haymitch still wasn't very sociable he talked more than he'd ever done over at her place and the slightly hostile look on his face was gone. Two burly looking men, called Bristel and Thom, soon joined them along with a girl and a boy with identical yellow hair and they spent most of the night talking with them and with Greasy Sae.

"She's fond of you," Effie said when she got a moment with Haymitch. "Mrs. Sae. Have you been friends with her for long?"

Haymitch nodded.

"She delivered me."

A look of complete confusion crossed Effie's eyes so Haymitch told her about the old days when Katniss's grandparents were still in charge over the apothecary shop and were as close to doctors as the district had. They were town's people in every limb so the prices were often too steep for Seam people – something that would get a drastic change when Katniss's mother took over. Greasy Sae's family was one of the largest in Twelve and she'd been something of a midwife for the Seam back then.

Effie listened to his story without interrupting him and an image flooded her mind of a tiny baby Haymitch with huge gray eyes and cute little fingers and toes and not a scowl on his face. She smiled, just as Thom returned from Ripper's counter bringing cups of something hot and steaming, too reddish to be coffee.

"That's…" Effie began.

"It's mulled wine," said Haymitch, taking a mouthful. "Doesn't count."

He gave her a cup. It's rich fragrance filled her nose and Effie took a tiny sip. It tasted sweet and fruity, the alcohol only just noticeable but its warmth spreading throughout her.

She should have known it was just Haymitch being bored and wanting to mess with her when he told her stories about the barbaric district men and women who frequented the Hob eating Capitolians for breakfast, and almost bringing her own breakfast up by giving her vivid descriptions of Greasy Sae's specialties like her concoction of mice meat, pig entrails and tree bark. When in fact the tomato soup with basil leaves served today looked just as palatable as their Capitol version.

Haymitch sipped his cup of mulled wine, his eyes never leaving Effie, watching her talk with Delly Cartwright and her kid brother. Even when wearing a much more toned down dress than usual Effie still stuck out, surrounded by people's weather-bitten faces and sturdy simple clothes. She was holding a very low profile, Haymith noted, undoubtedly because she was so aware of her history here. But despite what she'd been known as to the people in Twelve, they treated her with kindness and respect. Her friendship with Katniss and Peeta seemed to be enough for most of them to accept her.

Effie felt his eyes on her and gave him a warm smile and the emotion that filled him was so strong it almost overwhelmed him: he was so glad that she was here.

At the stroke of midnight, when people counted down from ten, both of them actually joined in until finally everyone in the Hob called out a "Happy New Year!" hugging and kissing each other, left and right.

Effie smiled at Haymitch and Haymitch smiled at her.

"Happy birthday, Eff," he said and without a word Effie rested her hands against his elbows, stood on tip-toe and kissed him on the cheek. The kiss landed at the corner of his mouth, which was never her intention. It lasted only a second and yet it was enough for him to feel like his heart jumped out of his chest. Then the moment broke and he stared at her, blood flooding his cheeks. Effie's face was as red as his and she barely dared looking him in the eye. Despite how innocent the kiss had been her heart pounded and she tried to hide her embarrassment by hugging Katniss, hugging Peeta and then excused herself, heading for the restroom to escape Haymitch's eyes.

The sound of the bathroom door closing shut seemed to resonate inside her, like the echo of a stone gate. Her whole body was tingling. His touch still lingered on her mouth, the feel of his scratchy cheek and the softness of his lips making heat build up between her legs.

 _This is Haymitch,_ she thought, over and over again. _Compose yourself, Effie. This is Haymitch._

Someone pulled down the handle on the other side of the door.

"It's occupied," Effie called but it opened and shut still and there he was. They stared at each other as Haymitch towered over her in the small space, her heart hammering in her chest. One second passed, two. She saw the fever in his eyes, making her breath quickening.

"Haymitch." That was all she got out before his lips were on hers so brutally they stumbled back a step, his hand shooting out to keep them from falling over the toilet. She wrapped her arms around him, a moan escaping her lips as she kissed him back, his hands roaming her body, touching her shamelessly. She fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, tugging it off, kissing his neck, his shoulder and up to his mouth again. She was so warm and soft, God help him. He moaned, flat-out gasped when her hand caressed down his chest and stomach until it came to rest over his hardness, stirring his body more awake than it'd been in years.

"Eff," he gasped, the desperation clear in his voice. "Effie."

She stroked him through the fabric and he moaned again, pulling at the top of her dress, freeing more skin and when his stubble grazed her when he kissed her there Effie failed to muffle a scream, close to release just by this, desire coursing through her in hot waves leaving her so wet she could barely think. Her breathing grew more and more laboured as he caressed her up her inner thigh and when he grazed over her centre through the undergarments Effie cried out.

"Please", she gasped. "Please, sleep with me."

He cursed his hands for not going faster, trying to unbuckle his belt, his lips swollen and aching against Effie's, when suddenly, without warning, the door swung opened.  
Katniss stared at them, mouth agape, seeing her former mentor and escort half-naked tangled together in the small bathroom. Effie stumbled back from Haymitch, eyes darting from Katniss to Haymitch and down to her half-exposed chest and she turned her back to them with a gasp and burning cheeks.

"What?" Haymitch barked out, looking at Katniss. His face was smudged with Effie's lipstick.

"I'll never be able to unsee this…" Katniss said, looking nauseated just as another familiar face came visible around the corner. Peeta, who called out in surprise, actually taking a step back and Haymitch slammed the door shut, locking it.

Effie still had her back turned to him, fervently trying to adjust her dress, her makeup, so embarrassed she was close to tears. And as the lust for her slowly faded again he tried to make sense of what the hell just happened.

"Effie, I…"

"I shouldn't be here," Effie whimpered, still trying to get her clothes back in some sort of order. "I will never be able to face them again! This wasn't supposed to happen! It wasn't supposed to happen!" She met his gaze, face hot with anguish. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered and fled the room.

 **Author's Note: Hope you liked that and remember: reviews are love :) Pardon me for any typos. English is not my first language.**  
 **Also, thanks to all of you reading and reviewing, following and favouriting. It means a lot and it's motivating me to keep writing.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
Wrong side up

The little girl hopped down the stairs, her black shoes echoing around the stone walls as she went.

"Hi, miss Effie!" she called so it could be heard long way, waving her little hand when she saw her teacher come through a corridor. Effie smiled at Gracie who hurried over to her, cheeks rosy when she said,

"It's mummy's birthday!"

"I know," said Effie. Gracie had hardly talked about anything else all day.

"We will have lots of ice cream," said Gracie, unable to contain her joy. "I get to eat chocolate ice cream and vanilla ice cream and green ice cream!"

Effie crouched down before the child.

"Better close your coat, it's chilly outside," she said while the child prattled on, and she buttoned Gracie's pink tweed coat and pulling her matching hat back slightly since it always had a tendency to go down over her chocolate brown eyes. "They're coming to get you now?"

Gracie nodded.

"Just don't forget…"

"No running down the stairs," said Gracie.

"That's right, sweetie," said Effie and the child giggled.

"Bye, miss Effie!" she said and gave her teacher a quick hug, disappearing out in the sunshine.

Normally Effie would have taken a cab home, since it was quite a walk from the Academy back to her apartment but she could use the fresh air and the sun that had finally returned. They were almost in the middle of March, that time of year when you didn't know if the breeze brushing your face were to promise warmer weather or more snow.

She'd been thinking a lot about Haymitch these past few months; uncomfortably often. She would go by her business, attend her parties, educate her girls and then a small detail, like a Seam gray sky or a Mockingjay hoping around the pink and orange paving stones and she was there again.

She hadn't heard from him, though, save that one nightly phone call about a week after she left when he slurred about the eight bottles of whiskey she'd promised him.

Not that she was any better. She'd spoken with Katniss and Peeta a few times over the phone but she couldn't even write Haymitch a proper card following his crate of bottles; only signing it with "Kind regards" because she was so embarrassed.

The morning after New Year's when she helped Katniss and Peeta set the breakfast table, she'd secretly hoped Haymitch would sleep in, maybe even for the rest of the day. It was awkward enough to be around the children, especially Katniss who seemed to want to forget the incident at the Hob even more than Effie did.

But just as they had a seat at the table Haymitch appeared, taking a chair, not meeting eyes with anyone.

Peeta was a sweetheart filling the uncomfortable silence and she gratefully engaged herself into the conversation, talking about the weather, about the snow lantern outside the house, about what a nice New Year's party it had been – while he was kind enough to keep from mentioning those first few minutes of the actual new year.

Throughout breakfast – that was technically her birthday party, if only a simple one at her own request – her eyes kept drifting back to Haymitch who sat there tinting his blood-red juice with the content of his silver hipflask, looking like he could just as well have forgotten about it all. And she was thankful the thick layers of powder on her face hid the hotness flooding her cheeks at that possibility, unsure if she was annoyed, hurt or just relieved.

Haymitch had had roman hands and russian fingers before, of course. He could become slightly affectionate towards her when he was drunk. But she'd dealt with his comments and pushed away his hands, taking it for what it was. They teased and they flirted but they never crossed the line drawn between them.

But in that small space between the toilet and the sink it was like her brain had stopped working, just wanting him so badly she was willing to disregard all rules of proper behaviour and let him take her against the wall.

In the light of day it was easier to dismiss what had happened as just an unfortunate incident caused by a genuinely nice evening and mulled wine. But in the darkness, when she could hear Haymitch's soft footfalls or the creak of his bed when he lay down, so close on the other side of the wall her body reacted so strongly it worried her. The memory of his hands all over her, his mouth against her mouth, how she could feel his desire through the clothes, hear him moan her name. And that's when she sighed there in the dark, wanting to go to him.

But she knew better than to give in to the temptation again. Besides, who said he wanted her to? When she watched him during the meals – the only times they really spent in each other's presence – seeing his silent, closed off face she was positive the answer was no. That he regretted it ever happening. Because he knew better too.

She left for the Capitol two days earlier than planned.

xXx

"We want to invite Effie."

Haymitch, whom had just given Delly back her change, didn't show with so much as a blink that he'd heard the boy but he felt a twinge in the pit of his stomach at the sound of her name.

"Katniss's birthday," Peeta added. He stood in the entrance leading to the inner parts of the bakery, with flour up to his elbows. "Well, would you be OK with it?" he asked, a small note of impatience in his voice when Haymitch wasn't answering. "Because that's what Effie will ask too."

"We're not married," Haymitch muttered. "She doesn't have to run anything with me."

Peeta gave him a look and Haymitch's eyebrows creased together.

"It was just a kiss," he said. "Weirder things happen every day, if you can believe it. Do what you want. She can visit or not visit. Either way is fine with me."

The bell at the top of the door twinkled and another customer entered, giving him an excellent excuse to not talk about Effie anymore.

He used to help out at the bakery every once in a while during busy weeks when the boy was short in staff or when he just needed something to do. He could cook, well enough, when he was sober, and bake too he guessed, but he actually preferred standing behind the counter, reckoning people would rather have Peeta's hands making their fresh baked goods than his.

The elderly man pointed to the different baskets and Haymitch counted up rolls, putting them in paper bags.

He felt exhausted enough to sleep through a century. He couldn't even pass off what had happened between him and Effie as just a drunken mistake. He'd lost his head from _one_ cup of mulled wine. And from looking way too deep into Effie's eyes.

It wasn't the first time he'd made out with a Capitolian. He'd fucked a handful of them during the Games, when his mind was soaked and his bed was cold. But being with those women, their eager embraces in dark rooms – it was never really… pleasant. There was an attraction, stimulated by the alcohol flowing through his veins and anger, making him burn hot and short, just craving for release and ignoring the unpleasant parts of the experience. Like eating a sunripe peach crawling with spiders.

It hadn't been like that with Effie. She was different and part of that thought annoyed him and it annoyed him that he couldn't just forget about the whole thing. Shit, just the sound of her deep sighs through the wall had been enough to make him hard again.

But the thought of repeating it, go through with it sent off all kinds of warning bells. To say he was a mess was an understatement. And Effie wouldn't want to be with someone like him, even if she thought she did in that moment. He should never have followed her in the first place.

And yet, in a moment of weakness, he'd called her. Just to see if she'd mention the kiss. Probably for the best she hadn't.

And now he'd okayed her coming back to Twelve. How did that even happen? Damn, life was simpler when it was just him.

"I'll go over to Hazelle's a minute, that alright?" he asked, loud enough for Peeta to hear him by the ovens. "I promised I would come get my laundry today."

xXx

 _Dear Haymitch  
I was very happy to hear from you through Peeta and be invited to Katniss's birthday party. They grow up so fast, don't they?  
I will board the train on May 7 when I come home from work and will arrive at District 12's station the following evening. Would you come and meet me if I asked you to? I feel like we should talk about, well, what happened between us at New Year's. I want you to know that…_

Dear Haymitch  
I should have come and talked to you right after we kissed. Now I'm afraid that when I see you things are going to be different, that we're going to treat each other differently. I don't even know how we could end up kissing. We're not exactly compatible. You are desirable but that is no excuse for me to…

Dear Haymitch  
We've known each other for years. Isn't it perfectly normal to feel an attraction to someone you're safe and familiar with? I wish I knew what you are thinking about all this? Are you angry? Hurt? Do you really want me back in District 12? Are things OK between us? I've missed you so ever since…

Dear Haymitch  
I just want you to know I'm looking forward to seeing you, all three of you. I really enjoy visiting District 12, even if you have out of control weather and no street lamps. I've always cared for you, more than I think you know and I…

Dear Haymitch  
My train will arrive the 8

 _th_ _of May about an hour before the party starts. Give Katniss and Peeta my best, would you?_

Sincerely  
Effie

xXx

Her gold wristband glittered in the spring sun when Effie knocked on Haymitch's door. He hadn't come and met her at the train station but she hoped to at least get a word with him before dinner over at Katniss and Peeta's. _Let's just accept we kissed._ That's what she was going to say to him. _Let's just accept we kissed and move on._ There were footsteps approaching and she drew a breath, his name already on her lips when the door swung opened.

A woman stood before her.

Effie released her breath in pure surprise at the sight of her and in her confusion she couldn't even tell who she was looking at even thought there was something familiar about her face.

"Hi Effie," the woman said, smiling at her. "I'm Hazelle."

"Hello," Effie blurted, finally regaining her voice, shaking the woman's outstretched hand, that was calloused and warm and strong.

The house was filled with the most delicious fumes and Hazelle lead the way to the kitchen, with the treads of a woman who knew her surroundings well.

"Hope you like lamb," she said, returning to the oven where a roasting tray was cooking. "Haymitch's upstairs, changing."

Effie bumped down on a chair staring at Hazelle; her soft, dark brown hair, her blue dress and her skilled hands pouring olive oil and white vinegar over a bowl of finely chopped vegetables.

Then there were the trample of feet coming down the stairs, Haymitch appeared at the door and for a fraction of a second his Seam gray eyes looked straight into Effie's, making the hairs on her arms stand right up.

Then the moment broke and he was by Hazelle's side, starting to slice cucumber for the water jug.

"If you want something to do you can make the table," he said over his shoulder.

And that was it.

Effie sat wedged in between Peeta and the young girl, Posy, whom had been very puzzled over Effie's light purple wig and golden head flower but was now eagerly talking with Katniss.

It was crowded, all eight of them squeezed together around the table and Effie joined in the various discussions but she kept losing her thread, distracted by Hazelle's and Haymitch's elbows touching while they ate.

She tried to meet his gaze throughout dinner but either he didn't notice or he didn't want to. He'd combed his hair. She couldn't remember the last time he combed his hair and he'd even put on a clean shirt. Was it Hazelle who had picked it out for him? Choosing gray so it would bring out the colour of his eyes. Effie glanced at the woman. She wasn't beautiful but she wasn't unattractive either. Eyes as gray as Haymitch's, dark-haired like Katniss, with those first few silver hairs. She ran a cobbler and cleaner business in town, apparently and she was a sweet woman, anyone could tell and anyone could tell how fond Haymitch was of her.

Effie sipped her glass, eating her neatly sliced lamb, red unions and sweet potatoes but despite it being one of the best dishes she'd ever had she could hardly swallow. Maybe because of the lump she had in her throat.

How different everything felt now compared to New Year's. At the Hob, if feeling like an intruder when first entering she'd also felt like part of Haymitch's team; of belonging with him and Katniss and Peeta.

Here, in his house where she'd been so many times before, she was the outsider, sitting just outside the family circle with Hazelle at Haymitch's right, which always used to be Effie's.  
 _  
At least Katniss looks happy,_ she thought, looking at the birthday girl and the ache in her heart eased a little. _They all do._

When it was time to bring out the cake someone suggested the Meadow.

Effie dabbed a napkin at the corner of her blue painted mouth, saying she would just go change shoes but her words were hardly even heard in the commotion of everyone getting up from the table.  
 _  
It's good, what's happened_ , she thought. That was when she was back in Katniss and Peeta's guestroom, unzipping her bag to get out her low heeled shoes. Hadn't she suggested herself they should invite the Hawthorne family over for dinner at New Year's? And hadn't she intended to tell him just hours ago she wanted to accept and move on?

So why did it hurt so much that Haymitch had done just that?

Haymitch and Hazelle; even their names sounded like they belonged together. Judging by their age they must have been at school around the same time. Maybe they'd even been playmates, running around the Seam when they were little.

She knew Hazelle had worked as his housekeeper before and knowing Haymitch, he must have made that arrangement solely out of care for Hazelle and her family, to help her income after the Capitol hardened its grip on their district. The Hawthornes had even lived at the Victor's Village during a shorter period after the war.

Maybe Haymitch had always had something going on with his housekeeper and at New Year's when Hazelle was in District 2…

But the heat had barely risen to Effie's cheeks before she dismissed it again. Haymitch would never be unfaithful. And there had still been plenty of time for him to forget about her and remember Hazelle in the four months that had passed.

She was happy for them. Of course she was.

And that was when she realized how quiet it had become. Outside was just birdsong. Not so much as a foot against gravel and she closed her bag quickly and headed for the door.

There wasn't a soul nearby. At first she just stood there, completely dumbfounded. Couldn't they have waited? Haymitch could have waited at least.

Where was the Meadow? She thought back to visiting Peeta at the hospital. He said the Meadow was just a stone's throw from… what? The Victor's Village?

Her eyes immediately went to the woods where she'd gone with Haymitch last winter and she sighed so heavily, a mockingjay took flight from a flower bush. But a stone's throw away was just a stone's throw away. And it couldn't be harder than plowing through snow, right?

She'd wanted to see the Meadow ever since Peeta gave her the painting. Because even if she had never actually seen it in real life and even if things felt strange and different between her and Haymitch now it was a place she connected with peace and feeling safe, because she associated it with Haymitch and Katniss and Peeta. On unbearable nights when every lamp in her apartment was lit she would sit wrapped in a blanket on her bed watching the painting, sometimes for hours.

She knew they had buried people there. That's why she'd been so surprised when Haymitch had said they could go there someday if she wanted to. Peeta went there frequently, he'd told her during her stay after Haymitch's birthday. Said he went there to think, that he didn't want to forget and ignore the place like it never happened, like the dead never existed. And she suspected if Haymitch went there it had something to do with Peeta and Katniss.

And lifting her chin she stood up straighter and walked right through the underbrush, being swallowed up by the trees.

May was a fine time to be in District 12, with the grass dotted with white and yellow flowers, the trees turning green and the brook with its cold, clear water purling over rocks.

But walking through its woods was a pain.

Her respect for Katniss who did this every day grew with each step she took. Despite her practically being born in heels, she still kept stumbling over tree roots or treacherous patches of moss soaking her feet in ice cold water. Little shrieks escaped her mouth when she walked face first into invisible spider webs and she had to stop again and again when she treaded through hidden straggly twigs or tangles of greenery and had to yank her foot free.

Half the time, she looked around trying to spot the Meadow; the other half her eyes were glued to the ground. And the next time she lifted her gaze, she picked the worst possible time to do so.

Her foot stepped down, breaking a stick. Something tightened around her ankle and she fell forward, a lashing pain in her calf and before she knew it she was heaved up so fast in the air she screamed, thinking a bear or something had gotten her. She turned her head left and right, her whole world bouncing up and down.

"Hello!" she called. "Hello! Anyone here?"

A trickle of blood ran up her calf. Something kept her dangling by the leg. She must have gone straight into one of Katniss's animal traps.

She called for help but it wasn't a soul nearby, only the mockingjays taking flight from the canopy at the sound of her.

"This isn't happening!" She tried to reach the ground with her hands, her fingertips just grazing against the underbrush. She tried to bend her body forward and reach her leg and the rope that held her dangling from the tree, but even if she hadn't wore a corset she wouldn't reach, not hanging like this. All blood seemed to have run down into her head leaving it throbbing as she tried to reach the nearest tree and somehow… somehow…

And she hissed with anger.

Why hadn't he waited for her!? Or was she so invisible to him he didn't even notice if she was there or not anymore! Who did he think he was!? He had barely said two words to her since she got back! Since they kissed! When it wasn't to slur at her about keeping him with alcohol! He could be with whoever he wanted. She couldn't care less! But this silent treatment, that she did not deserve! And now she was going to hang here until she withered and Haymitch would only be pleasantly surprised having her out of the way.

She didn't know how long she hang there, the sky turning overcast but when Effie was the most fuming, her blood boiling the hottest, whose figure didn't materialized behind a tree trunk if not the reason himself.

"Well, finally!" Effie snapped, too angry to even be relieved. Haymitch stared at her, actually rendered speechless watching his ex colleague dangling by the leg from a tree. "What took you so long!"

"What the heck are you doing?"

"I _told_ you I had to go change my shoes before we left! Why didn't you wait for me? Or were you so busy with…"

" You're lookin' for the Meadow out _here?"_

"Peeta said it would be just a stone's throw away," said Effie, her annoyance building from Haymitch just standing there.

"From _the Seam_ , Eff. Not the Victors Village."

"The…" Effie stopped short. "That's… Well, that doesn't matter now, does it! Get me down this instant!"

Haymitch frowned at her snappishness. And then he did something outrageous. He just sat down. Close enough to be on eye level with Effie but on a safe enough distance from any hair tearing. Effie's mouth dropped opened watching him reach inside his pocket getting out his silver hip flask.

"Don't drink!" she said immediately but her trying to stop him only made her twirl from the rope and she groaned.

"Get me down! What are you waiting for?"

"It'll do ya some good, hanging there for a while," said Haymitch. "Shaking off your bad temper."

"How dare you!?" _  
_  
Haymitch took a long time unscrewing his flask, having a few pulls on it.

"If it wasn't enough you gave me the cold shoulder during dinner," Effie hissed. "If it wasn't enough you're with.. with… now you're just going to…"

"Why're you so angry?" Haymitch asked.

"Look at me and it might give you a clue!"

"No, it's more than that," said Haymitch. "Is it cause I kissed you? Sorry. Won't happen again."

And Effie hated herself for feeling tears well up in her eyes.

"No, of course it won't. What a lucky woman!"

"Is that a reference to yourself or what?" Haymitch asked tiredly, having another drink from his hipflask.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about!"

"I never do," Haymitch sighed. "But you're not making a lot of sense in general. So why don't you tell me, sweetheart?"

Effie glared at him, wondering if he was just playing stupid.

"Hazelle, of course!" she spitted. "Hazelle! Your pretty new girlfriend."

Haymitch's eyebrows lifted, having to take a closer look at Effie, to see if she was being sarcastic but all he could see on her face was anger and betrayal and… something more, was it hurt?

"My _new_ girlfriend?" he finally uttered.

"Yes, and she's from the districts too! I bet you are very happy about that!"

First Haymitch just stared at her as if wondering what she'd been drinking. Then when it dawned on him he guffawed.

"So, that's why you've been acting weird all day? Cause you think I'm doing Gale's mom?"

"I couldn't care less about who you're… doing. But I thought you'd at least…"

"Sweetheart, I'm not having a fling with Hazelle", Haymitch chuckled. "Who told you I was? Your jealousy _is_ cute, though."

"I'm not jealous! Not a bit! And what do you mean you're not with Hazelle? She was cooking you dinner!"

"She was cooking Katniss dinner and only at my place cause the kids' stove broke."

Effie stared at him.

"Are you playing me for a fool, Haymitch? I've seen you with her. You like each other."

"Course we do. Doesn't mean we wanna fuck each other."

That silenced Effie. And the more seconds that passed the more she realized she had made a proper fool of herself all on her own, almost wanting to ask Haymitch to leave and get her in a couple of hours when everyone else had gone to bed.

"Can you get me down now?" she muttered. "Please."

And Haymitch got out his old knife and went to work on cutting the rope from the tree.

"Katniss will be disappointed," he said, slowly lowering Effie onto the ground. "She's gotten better hauls than this."

Effie was lying on her back, too dizzy to move, her chest rising and falling in short breaths. Then Haymitch's face came into her field of vision.

"Can't believe you thought Hazelle would do _me,"_ he said. "She's taken care of me in situations you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. Don't think I'm her type, sweetheart. Hell, as far as I know I'm not anyone's type."

"Oh, of course you are," said Effie with a wave of her hand. "Or at least you would be if you weren't so obnoxious all the time."

"Gonna lie there all day, huh?"

"Yes." With a groan Effie pushed herself up to sitting and while she reach for her wig, brushing it off, Haymitch cut off a piece of his shirt.

"What are you doing?" she asked when he crouched down beside her but he just tied it around the cut on her leg. A shiver ran through her when his fingers brushed against her skin.

"Sorry," mumbled Haymitch, who thought she was hurting.

"I feel stupid," Effie muttered.

"You are stupid."

The sky had grown dark when they returned to the Victor's Village, stars beginning to appear.

"Sleeping over at the kids' house tonight?" Haymitch asked.

"Yes, I… I thought that would be best," Effie said.

Haymitch nodded, putting his hands in his pockets, his face illuminated by the golden light spilling out through Katniss and Peeta's house.  
 _  
Talk to him. Talk to him or else maybe you never will.  
_  
"Haymitch…"

"I know," said Haymitch. "It's alright. See you tomorrow." And without another word he left, disappearing into his house.

Effie couldn't sleep at all that night. After hours of tossing and turning she finally got out of bed, tiptoeing downstairs so she wouldn't wake Katniss and Peeta. She always drank warm milk with honey when she had trouble sleeping, and she poured herself a cup now even though she had to make do with drinking it cold since the stove was not working. She wrapped a blanket around herself sitting in one of the bay windows, seeing Haymitch's house through her own unsmiling reflection.

When she arrived here it'd been a relief knowing she'd sleep over at the children's house. Now she felt bad about the fact the three of them were here together, while Haymitch was on his own, maybe believing she couldn't stand to be even in the same house as him.

She thought she'd been upset about Haymitch being with Hazelle. But what was really down heartening was to learn that he wasn't. That he was just as alone as always.

She heard a door being opened and she lifted her gaze, looking out the window. It didn't take long for her to make out Haymitch, staggering down his front porch and even in this dim light it wasn't hard to tell the state he was in.

"I need to talk to you," Haymitch slurred, reeling into Effie when she got outside, making her stagger back and she tried to steady him by holding on to his shoulders.

"Go to bed, Haymitch. It's long past midnight."

"No. I need to talk to you. I need to tell you I'm not with Hazelle."

"I already know you're not with Hazelle, Haymitch," she said. "Come now, let's get you to bed."

"No, no. That's not what I was gonna say."

He reeked with alcohol, trying to get the words out, trying to focus his blood shot eyes at her.

"I need to tell you _why_ I'm not with Hazelle…"

Before she could answer he staggered a step, into the soft light from the window and she saw his face properly. Fear shot through her at the sight of his skin and lips that were tinged a sick bluish color. She tried to steer him towards Katniss and Peeta's house, telling him to come with her but he resisted, his words coming out in unconnected slurs she could hardly make sense of. Then he gave a low groan.

"I feel funny," he mumbled. "I…"

And he vomited all over Effie's chest. His feet gave way, tumbling them both over and she called out his name when he started to convulse on the ground.

xXx

That was a night all four of them would gladly forget.

First there were Effie, Katniss and Peeta, sitting in the hospital corridor, waiting for news on Haymitch. Effie went and found them some blankets and then she sat there patting their backs, mumbling reassurances to them even though her own hands were visibly shaking.

And then there was Haymitch, feeling like he'd been run down by a tractor when he finally came to; angry at finding himself in a hospital bed, angry about the mayhem he'd caused.

There were few things Haymitch hated as much as he hated hospitals and now he couldn't leave, not for the next few days because of the severe alcohol poisoning he'd apparently suffered. And even if he'd been able to persuade the doctors and the nurses and God Almighty, there was no getting past Effie Trinket. He told Katniss and Peeta to go home and get some rest but it was pointless to try and get her to leave.

He didn't remember anything from that night but he'd heard enough to know he'd given them a fright he never wanted to inflict on either of them. And now he was paying the price, by getting Effie for a nurse.

He wondered if she thought he'd go down the fire escape if she turned her back to him for even a second. Maybe she just couldn't get enough of his ass peeking through the hospital gown when she helped him to the bathroom, or the smell of his vomit when she held his hair.

"You could have died, Haymitch," she said, pulling the cover from the bed, keeping an eye on his IV drip while he lay back down again. "And not just figuratively speaking. I could have been at the Capitol right now, picking out your headstone."

"Great," said Haymitch. "You'll get me a pink one with blinking butterflies and my theme song playing in the background."

"Even if I did, it would only serve you right!"

"Hey, don't yell at the sick guy."

Effie clucked her tongue and reached for the water glass on the nightstand.

"Drink some," she said, holding the straw to his lips, like he couldn't do it himself. She would do things like that no matter how many times he swatted her hands away. Buttoning his hospital gown when it became undone, staying vigil by his bedside making sure he ate everything on his plate, keeping him hydrated and fussing over his hair that would get matted in clumps at the back, badly wanting to comb it out for him until he literally pressed his hands against his head, hissing at her about tearing it out with the roots.

"Don't you have a job?" he asked.

"They gave me a few days off when they heard I had a family emergency," she said. "Now, Haymitch. You will focus on getting well, do what the doctor says and then you go home and live until you're 105."

The sun flooded the square when he finally got to exit the hospital doors with Effie by his side and he inhaled deep breaths of the clear spring air as if he hadn't been able to breathe properly inside.

All he wanted was to go home but Effie badly wished to pay a visit to the flower shop first and Haymitch reluctantly followed, staying outside, fisting and unfisting his hands that were shaking. When she returned she brought with her a large bouquet of red and yellow and purple and pink tulips.

"To celebrate your homecoming," she smiled. "Tulips are my favorite flower. I thought we could put them in the kitchen. Give your house a little color."

"Yeah, whatever."

Bottles were rolling when Haymitch pushed inside his house and Effie sighed when she saw the share number of them littering the floor. She put the tulips aside on the kitchen table, searching for a vase while Haymitch went straight for the cabinet under the sink. And he'd already had a few good swigs from one of the bottles before Effie snatched it from his grasp.

"What are you doing!? Haymitch! Didn't you listen to a word the doctor said?"

"Wasn't like he had anything to say I didn't already know," said Haymitch, reaching for another bottle but he'd barely gotten it out before Effie snatched that one as well.

"You almost died!"

"Almost, yeah," said Haymitch trying to take a third bottle but this time Effie stepped up closing the cabinet shut, just barely missing his fingers.

"You are not drinking those," she said, ignoring Haymitch's indignant sound. "You will help me cleaning this up. I am not doing it all by myself."

Haymitch watched her with a frown when Effie put her armful of bottles back in the cabinet before starting to pick empty ones from the floor. He went over to the broom closet, getting out the broom and dustpan. But not before he'd had a few pulls at one of the wine bottles stashed in there.

He never said Effie could stay over at his place. It just happened anyway. And between the drinking and the arguments, she was slowly taking over his life. Large bouquets of tulips adorned every room. Bright yellow curtains replaced the dusty ones from last Christmas. She draped his threadbare sofa with pink, flowery fabrics so the stuffing wouldn't show and arranged his clothes in the closets and drawers so he could never find what he was looking for.

Nothing was where it used to be. He spent half an hour cursing and looking for one of his books in all his usual places only to realize Effie had put them in perfect rows in the book shelf.

Effie had been surprised when first hearing he liked to read, a reaction which in turn had annoyed him. But it was one of the few things he actually enjoyed spending money on apart from liquor.

Not fiction. Fiction was a waste of time in his opinion but he owned several thick volumes of history, science and even philosophy. There'd been times when he read more than usual, when it'd played a greater part in his life but he'd never completely stopped and he had put those books in strategic places like the bay windows, by his bed, by the toilet for a reason!

But he could almost live with her taking over his house and her bossing around about regular meals and sleep and vitamins if it wasn't for her damn nagging about his drinking. She'd always disapproved over his alcohol consumption to some degree but ever since his trip to the hospital she'd been an absolute pain.

He was so sick of arguing with her about it and found himself taking longer time than was necessary buying his groceries or staying to talk with Peeta at the bakery, just delaying the moment when he had to go home.

One night after their latest argument, he sat in the living room and all his bottles that were normally stashed in the kitchen were rounded up on the coffee table in a silent protest, with him working though them from left to right.

It was raining outside so it took a moment for him to even hear her. Then her whimpers cut through the tapping on the roof and his first bitter thought was he should just let her untangle herself from her sheets this time.

But of course he wouldn't. He went up the stairs, hand on the banister as he wasn't really steady and pushed himself into her bedroom finding Effie curled up on the bed, screaming into her pillow.

Goose bumps had risen all over her body and she woke with a gasp when he shook her. When her mind came to realize it was all a dream her tensed body just sank back against the bed and she buried her wet face in the pillow, away from him.

"Just a nightmare," Haymitch mumbled.

"No, it's not," she whispered.

"War is over, sweetheart. You'll never…"

"I didn't dream about my torture," Effie said, the anger slipping into her voice again, poorly masking the despair underneath. "I dreamt about you," she mumbled. "When you collapsed."

He watched her in silence as she brushed her face dry and pulled up the comforter over herself again, not looking at him.

"Why do you care so much if I live or die?"

"Go back to bed, Haymitch," mumbled Effie, facing the wall. "Please, just go."

He went to his own room, just on the other side of the wall. The raindrops ran down the window, making him think of Effie's tears. There were more bottles stashed under his bed but he didn't touch them. Instead he lay on his unmade bed, starting up at the ceiling.

Few minutes later he heard her again.

"Oh, boy," he mumbled and he got up and to her room a second time. Just when he saw her, tossing and turning in bed, he could make out the words hidden in her cries. The name.

"Alexander!" She cried it more and more panicky each time. "Alexander! No! Please, no! Haymitch, help me!"

He crossed the small space and woke her just like he did last time. A choked sob escaped Effie's lips and she buried her face in her hands but almost immediately tried to compose herself, body rigid from repressed sobs. She reached for the nightstand and now at first did he notice the bottle of sleeping pills.

"Eff," he said, watching her take one on her palm and swallow it with the water on the first try, like only one could whom had done it many times before.

"I'm sorry I'm keeping you up. You shouldn't have to see this," she mumbled, face wet from tears and she lay down again.

"Effie…"

"It will pass, Haymitch. It always does. I'll be alright in a moment."

xXx

Effie never mentioned her nightmares the next day and Haymitch didn't press her when she avoided his questions, just like he hadn't pressed Katniss.

He knew about her sleeping pills, of course. Not only from when she gave them to Katniss on the train but he'd seen the bottles in Effie's room at the penthouse as well.

He wasn't that surprised over her brushing him off last night either. Effie was often like that. When she felt the tears coming she would excuse herself and disappear into her room, not speaking about it when she returned.

She had the right to keep her own secrets, he guessed, and it was really none of his business. He didn't flatter himself to think he was one to talk to.

But he wondered. When he stood outside her locked door hearing her sobbing and calling out names with such despair it hurt to hear it. Wondered about Alexander, wondered about the blonde woman at the Capitolium and all the other things that would make her look so unbearably sad sometimes.

He tried to ration his drinking a little bit for her sake so the day everything went to hell he woke to his body aching all over, hearing someone go about in the kitchen. He dragged himself out of bed putting on whatever he found on the floor along with an old blanket, slowly getting downstairs.

The kitchen smelled of coffee and he found Effie by the stove.

"Here, I made you a cup too," she said, as always looking like she was about to go to a party.

Haymitch muttered out thanks and sat down at the table while she stayed with her back against the kitchen countertop.

He slurped his coffee, relishing every bit of it. Effie knew exactly how he liked it, with just a few drops of milk while she, apart from what you might think, preferred hers black. Black and so scorching hot it burned your brains out.

His hands were so shaky his teeth clattered against the edge of his cup. He hardly even listened to Effie but then she said something that caught his attention.

"I bought the ticket."

He looked at her seeing her holding it up.

"Great," he mumbled, wondering why she was showing him that. Then she moved her thumb and forefinger revealing it was two tickets. "What the hell," Haymitch whined.

Effie smiled, half apologetically, half hopefully.

"I'm not expecting anything," she said. "But they were giving you a discount if you bought two tickets so I thought, what's the harm. Maybe…"

"What about your job?"

"I'm only at the Academy three days a week, the rest of the time we would spend together."  
He put his cup back on the table.

"Guess you'll be OK with me bringing my own stuff, then?"

"Well," said Effie, looking like she'd expected that coming. "I have a well-supplied liquor cabinet that will more than suffice your needs."

Haymitch groaned, feeling vomit at the back of his throat. What annoyed him the most wasn't so much her buying him a train ticket without even asking if it would accommodate him. It was the fact she wanted him with her, not for the pleasure of his company but to keep tabs on his drinking.

"So you're saying I'm to come with you like a good little doggie getting my treat only when you think it's deserved?"

Effie's cheeks flushed pink but she met his gaze without blinking.

"That's rude. And no. But I don't want to see you in the hospital again and I don't want you puking all over the floor either. I had enough of that during the Games."

"Good. Cause I'm not coming," he said, getting up from his chair, moving towards the kitchen cabinets.

"Can you please keep from drinking, at least until after breakfast!"

"I'm done talking about my drinking, alright! You're such a hypocrite, Eff. You're popping pills to function."

"That's different. They're prescribed. I only take them when I need them…"

"While pretending everything peachy when you're a total fucking disaster just like everybody else!"

"I'm not! You know nothing about…"

"Oh, please. You can't even speak about that Alexander guy you're bawling your eyes out after!"

And suddenly they were screaming at each other, all their frustration from the past few days boiling over so their voices could be heard all over the Victor's Village.

"What about Katniss and Peeta?" Effie cried. "Ever thought about them having to watch you self-destruct!? When so many died, you're living your life like this! Think about Finnick or Cinna or little Primrose! Your mother, your brother…"

"Shut up, Effie!" _  
_  
"If your mother could see you now…"

"Shut up about my family!"

"…You would break her heart!"

"And what about you!?" Spit flew out of his mouth, her words piercing right through his heart, making the cruel words spill over his lips. "You're nothing! No good to anyone! Maybe I should've just left you to rot!"

He regretted it the moment he said it. The anger drained from Effie eyes, replaced by confusion and pain. Then her face closed again, like the pull of curtains and her voice was a stranger's when she said,

"Thank you for your honesty, I guess."

And it was too much. Too much of the past few days, too much of his body screaming for the thing he withheld it, too much of Effie's eyes and he pushed himself passed her, slamming the door shut when he left.

The Hob was empty this time of day when Haymitch heaved himself up on a bar stool, trying to keep his coins from rolling across the table. And there he would sit, ordering glass after glass, in no hurry to get home.

Because Effie wouldn't be there when he did.

xXx

*ring ring*  
 _Hello, this is Effie Trinket's answer phone. I can't pick up at the moment but do leave a message and I will call you back. Until then: have a very very nice day! *peep*  
_ Well, you know why I'm calling. But it's not like you shouldn't apologize too. For the way you talk about people without any concern and for bossing everybody around all day long.  
I didn't ask for a nurse in the first place. My drinking's my business just like your business is your business, right? Simple. And I should have said I'm sorry if you hadn't been in such a damn hurry to get on that train.  
*peep*

*ring ring*  
 _Hello, this is Effie Trinket's answer phone. I can't pick up at the moment but do leave a message and I will call you back. Until then: have a very very nice day! *peep*  
_ Effs, pick up. I know you're there so just please pick up. I'm sorry for what I said and… well, for my last call too. Shit, you annoy me to no end even when it's just your answer phone. But just forget about what I said, alright. You know I would never have said it if I hadn't been in withdrawal and… fuck! Why did you have to leave like that? Just… give me a chance to make it right again.  
Call me, will you?  
*peep*

*ring ring*  
 _Hello, this is Effie Trinket's answer phone. I can't pick up at the moment but do leave a message and I will call you back. Until then: have a very very nice day! *peep*  
_ I see you've made it your mission to not take any of my calls. Is it your plan to drown me with guilt? Congratulation, you've succeeded. I feel like crap. Come on, I didn't mean anything I said. You know that, right?  
Call me, sweetheart.  
*peep*

*ring ring*  
 _Hello, this is Effie Trinket's answer phone. I can't pick up at the moment but do leave a message and I will call you back. Until then: have a very very nice day! *peep*  
_ Well, you know this voice. All the trouble you had getting my phone fixed and now when I'm actually using it I'm just talking to myself as usual.  
Shit, we're the most clashing, dysfunctional pair in Panem. Which is sad really because I'm fond of you the moments I can stand you.  
I'll even go to the Capitol to see you if you want.  
*peep*

*ring ring*  
 _Hello, this is Effie Trinket's answer phone. I can't pick up at the moment but do leave a message and I will call you back. Until then: have a very very nice day! *peep*  
_ You don't wanna talk to me, I get it but why haven't you answered any of the kids' phone calls? I know they've called you more than once. Are you alright? I didn't mean a word I said, I never have and I never will. You know that's the truth, right?  
OK, I'm hanging up now and you don't have to call back but could you at least give Katniss and Peeta a call so we know you're OK.  
*peep*

xXx

Even the never-sleeping Capitol felt deserted this early in the morning. The sun reflected itself in one of Effie's mirrors when he stood on her doorstep, his eyes red and aching from the lack of sleep. He'd been travelling all night, getting on the train after he couldn't get in contact with Plutarch.

He'd left a note to Katniss and Peeta before leaving and they'd probably think he'd lost his mind visiting Effie Trinket this early in the morning just because she hadn't answered his phone calls. And maybe he had. There could be many reasons why she hadn't picked up. She was probably just down with the flu.

When she didn't appear after he pressed the door bell he felt the handle and was surprised to find it unlooked.

"Eff?" he called, walking through the empty halls of her apartment and when he pushed inside her bedroom his eyes were immediately drawn to the bed and the person curled up on it. The sun struggled to filter in through the curtains, the air stuffy and Effie lay in a tangle of sheets, head against the pillow. The bed dipped on one side when he sat down, resting his hand against her forehead to see if she was running a fever. She was still asleep, her hair matted and tangled, grease built up in it like she hadn't left the bed for days.

What a jerk he'd been to her. Effie hadn't been the most well-mannered either but he felt in his heart he'd been the worst of the two. She'd only done and said what she did out of care for him and even if it was annoying – how many in his life did that really?

He remembered how she'd sent after boxes of raspberries, which weren't even in season yet, only cultivated in greenhouses, because she knew they were his favorite, how she made up his bed with brand new sheets bought in town and asked his doctor what nutrition he would need to help his recovery. Because for some unfathomable reason Effie Trinket gave a damn if he got well or not when he was ill.

He stroked a strand of hair from her cheek, and memories of that day on the roof fluttered back to him. They'd just returned to the penthouse from the Games Headquarters after losing their tributes, with Effie wanting to discuss strategies for next year and between her pointless listing and the dying kids on screen he pulled himself off of the coach taking his bottle with him, waving off her words like one would an annoying fly.

His memories after that were foggy but somehow he'd ended up on the Training Centre roof. Effie, who thought Haymitch had gone back to his quarters didn't come and collect him until lunch. It took her a while to think of the roof when she couldn't find him in any of the plausible places and when she went up there the air was so baking hot you could cut it with a knife. She made way through the garden with its flower beds of large yellow and orange blossoms, her shoe just brushed against a discarded shirt and she couldn't keep a whimper from dropping from her lips when she saw him.

Haymitch lay sprawled on his stomach on one of the green benches. The shadows of the dozen or so wind chimes hanging from branches made patterns over his back that the sun had turned an angry red.

"Oh, Haymitch." She wanted to wake him and get him inside but didn't know where she dared touch him. The most merciful would probably be to let him stay unconscious. Finally she took him by the leg and gave it a shake. He wore pants at least, saving him from some of the excruciating pain he'd experience when he came to.

"Haymitch!" she said, shaking his leg again. A groan escaped his lips, he stirred and cracked open an eye. It seemed to take a moment for anything to register but just as his gaze focused on her she could hear it start deep down, make its way up his throat and Effie's face contorted at the agonized sound coming over his lips.

"You need to come inside," she said.

"Feels like… burning up," Haymitch got out through gritted teeth.

"I know. You've been out in the sun too long."

She made an attempt to help him sit but Haymitch yelped out in pain when her hand came in contact with his skin even if it was just lightly, leaving white marks slowly fading back to red. He sat up, low breaths pressed out of his lungs. She reached out for him reflexively when seeing him sitting so hunched and suffering but Haymitch hissed at her to stay away.

"Do you experience any dizziness?" she asked. "Muscle weakness or cramps, headache or nausea, rapid heartbeat? You're sweating at least, that's good sign. Do you feel confused or disoriented?"

Haymitch groaned and got to his feet, slowly but not less determinedly with Effie leaning down, taking his shirt between her thumb and forefinger.

"Leave me alone, Trinket," he growled when he heard her clattering footsteps following him.

"You should let the doctor take a look at you," said Effie when they got inside his room where the curtains were pulled tightly together. Haymitch snorted and grabbed a bottle from the nightstand.

"I don't want _them,"_ he said, snapping the seal.

"No more alcohol, Haymitch please," Effie said but Haymitch was already gulping down as much as he could as fast as his back allowed, probably hoping it would ease the pain a little. He paused just long enough to gasp at her to get the hell out of his room.

"Your anger at me is very misdirected," Effie said. "It's not my fault you decided to pass out on the…"

But she wasn't given the chance to finish because now Haymitch was pushing her out. She called out indignantly but he slammed the door in her face just the same, locking it.

Haymitch didn't hear her trying to make him see reason because he was sitting under the shower head, the rest of his clothes littering the floor but still looking like he wore a bright red shirt. He gritted his teeth but couldn't keep the moans from bouncing around the tiled walls, the cold water splashing the bathtub where he sat hunched. He wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his face against them, trembling like a damn dog, holding the shower head drenching his back that was hot as a coal stove.

The bathtub was less than half full when Effie entered. He looked through the crack between his arms.

"How did you get in?" he muttered. He reached for the whiskey bottle in the washbasin and his fingers closed around it the moment Effie's did. He hissed at her when they grabbled for it and Effie gave a small shriek when the shower head turned her way drenching her with cold water.

"Why do you have to be so difficult!" Water dripped down her lavender wig, and in his state, Haymitch wasn't even able to enjoy the fact her dress had turned slightly see-through. Effie pulled the shower head from his grasp, turned it off and put it back in place. "I've got you something that will help."

"A new career?" he muttered.

He pushed her hands away when she tried to help him out of the tub, towel at the ready and he heaved himself out of the water on his own. Effie's face turned tomato red when Haymitch walked passed her naked as the day he was born. She folded the towel back neatly and poured him a glass of water and when she joined him, Haymitch lay on his stomach soaking his bed covers and even if he was quiet his face had contorted, his breaths coming out in trembling huffs. She sat down on the edge of his bed being sure to not come in contact with his skin, putting her paper bag on the nightstand, picking up the items she'd gotten at the infirmary on the bottom floor.

"I'll be as careful as I possibly can," Effie said, unscrewing the lid on a pot, revealing a thick creamy paste. When she gently spread it over his back Haymitch flinched but almost immediately he sighed with relief, his body relaxing.

"Your beautiful skin," Effie mumbled watching all the angry red disappear under a layer of medicine, coating him like Peeta would a cream cake. Haymitch's breathing had calmed but she still gave him some aspirin along with the entire glass of water and then made him drink two more. She put the back of her hand to his forehead but he wasn't hot, seemed fine really apart from the sunburn.

"You don't have to walk straight into trouble whenever it's bad", she mumbled. "I'm right here."

Haymitch didn't answer. Effie crossed one leg over the other meeting his gaze when she was done, his face half-buried in the damp pillow.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, slowly drying her hands on her handkerchief.

Haymitch shrugged but winced when his skin complained.

"You must take it easy," she said. She reached for a bottle of something honey coloured on the nightstand and poured in into a small plastic cup.

"I don't wa…" Haymitch began but Effie had already tipped it into his mouth so suddenly the sleep syrup went down in a reflexive swallow. He wiped his mouth on the pillowcase.

"Thanks a lot, Trinket!"

"You need to rest to give your skin a chance to recover. I won't have you binge-drink until you're so numb you think you're fit for another trip to the roof. And you are short on sleep. You'll be refreshed when you wake."

"Like hell I'll be refreshed," muttered Haymitch into the pillow. Effie knitted her hands against her lap. "What are you still doing here?" he said. "Not afraid someone will wonder where we are? It's mandatory watching, you know."

"What does it matter at this point," she said. "Nobody cares about us."

Haymitch's eyelids were already drooping. He blinked hard several times to keep himself awake.

"You just wanna watch me in all my glory a little while longer, don't you, sweetheart?"

"You look like a buttered roll, honeypie," Effie said. "Besides, it's not like it's the first time I've seen you naked." She pulled the curtains slightly apart. "Do you want me to open a window? Get some fresh air inside?"

"No," Haymitch mumbled, his voice getting slurred from the sleep syrup. He felt himself slipping away and fear shot through him, like a stab because despite his muddled mind, his body still feared what would come with the darkness. "Don't go."

"I'm here," she said and if that had come from any other person he'd just felt weak but for some reason it was never like that with Effie.

He sighed, watching Effie's pale, sleeping face now. Why were they wasting their time like this? Why did he try so hard to say the things that would hurt her the most, make her believe he didn't care?

"Eff," he said and gave her shoulder a shake but she just kept on sleeping. "Eff," he said louder, shaking her again. "Effs, wake up and you can tell me I was an ass."

He shook her harder and Effie's head fell to the side. And that's when he saw the empty bottle of sleeping pills on the nightstand.

"No" he mumbled. "No." And he called her name sharply, his fingers going to her lips, her throat trying to find a pulse, her body slack and lifeless and he grabbed the phone from the nightstand so violently he sent the bottle flying over the floor and as Haymitch shouted into the receiver calling for an ambulance the pill bottle spun round and round and round until it finally stopped.

 **Author's note: Lot's of drama in today's chapter. And reviews are very much appreciated. :)  
**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
No man is an island

A voice tried to reach her through the darkness. She knew it must be concerning her even if she couldn't make sense of what was said, what they wanted. She floated through nothingness but the voice kept calling her.

"Effie? Miss Effie, can you hear me?"

She felt something soft and silky under her fingertips. A groan escaped her lips when she moved, reality bringing a dull aching with it.

"It's alright miss Effie, you're in the hospital."

And slowly Effie opened her eyes, the simple act almost too great an effort. Her chest rose and fell in soft breaths as her gaze came to focus on a square of clear blue sky. The woman kept talking in a soothing voice but it was like the reassurances were concerning somebody else with Effie just badly wanting to lift her hand and ward her off; to make that flow of words end.

"There's someone here to see you," the nurse said. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call."

And then she was gone and another person came into her field of vision. His skin ashen, a scowl on his face when looking down at her.

"Haymitch?" Effie mumbled, her voice slurred.

"Well, you do anything to get me back to the Capitol don't you, sweetheart," Haymitch said.

"Where… when…"

"You downed a bottle of pills. Remember that?"

Effie's eyebrows came together, as if trying to make sense of it.

"Piece of luck you're still alive", Haymitch said. "Gave me one of my top worst days ever, while you were at it. Congratulations, sweetheart, that's a feat."

He pulled a chair to the side of her bed, rubbing his hand against his face tiredly.

"The kids are worried sick for you", he said. "I think they've both just about had it with our hospital drama."

"You told them?" Effie rasped. "Why did they have to know?"

"Because they care about you. We all do."

"Do you, really?" she said and Haymitch frowned at her tone.

"Why do you think I came all the way here for? It was just a stupid argument, Eff. It's not like we haven't had plenty of those before."

Effie looked away, into the wall, so he wouldn't see the tears gathering in her eyes.

"Did you do it on purpose?" Haymitch asked and Effie released a breath.

"I just wanted to sleep."

She pressed her eyes shut, her head throbbing painfully. She heard Haymitch moving in his chair.

"Drink this."

"I don't want it," Effie said even though it was a lie.

"If I had to you have to."

"I don't have to do a thing, Haymitch."

"Come on, sweetheart. Don't be so stubborn," he said and there was something in his voice that made her accept the glass. When he leaned in helping her to take a few sips she got a closer look on him. His chapped lips, his wrinkled shirt, the dark shadows under his blood-shot eyes.

"Did you sleep?" she rasped.

Haymitch's eyebrows came together.

"Don't worry about me, Eff. Worry about yourself."

"You shouldn't have told the children. Now you've only upset them. I'm in control."

Haymitch snorted.

"Sure you are."

"There's no reason for you to be here. Go home to Katniss and Peeta. Tell them I'm perfectly fine."

"You overdosed, Eff. That's a big enough reason." He put the glass back on the nightstand with an exasperated sound. "I'll be coming home with you the moment they let you out," he said, meeting her scowl with one of his own.

"And what if I say no?" Effie muttered.

Haymitch shrugged.

"Then you'll have to shoot me."

xXx

Rain fell in relentless sheets, turning the Capitol into a blur of colors and lights. Water ran in streams down the roads, thrumming against the shiny cars parked by the curb. Even if you could still hear the distant sound of people singing and chanting, the beating of music, many would be disgruntled about tonight's downpour.

One of the many differences between the Capitol and the districts was the city's ability to control the weather, to answer whatever came with a countermove.  
Capitolians weren't at all against great snowfalls turning their city into a winter paradise – around Christmas and New Year's it was a must – or really hot summer days as soon as it didn't reach over a certain temperature. They had all weathers just like the rest of Panem but it never lasted to the point it brought discomfort. The public garden could be full of snow and pretty lights at the same time as the shopping avenues were spring warm. Drizzle could be turned to steam before it even reached the roof tops, cold summer days were balanced out with warm air blown through the city and too hot ones were fixed by the same principle.

So many ways to trick and hide and alter.

But the rain, real rain like tonight, the Capitol couldn't beat. Not well enough. The city would be dry and warm again within minutes once it was all over but when it fell there was nothing you could do but let it fall and hope it would get better.

Effie's nightgown was soaked with sweat as she clutched on to Haymitch, her body shaking with uncontrollable sobs.

"Breathe, Eff," Haymitch muttered. "Gonna pass out on me if you do that. You gotta breathe."

The clock was nearing four in the morning and it was three days since he moved it. Three days like this.

Effie'd said the overdose was an accident and he didn't think she was lying about that. But it felt like his failure that she thought her only option was to take more and more pills, when he was just a phone call away.

No objections left her lips when he got rid of the medicine bottles but sometimes he thought the most merciful would be to give it back to her again. Her small way of escape, just like the alcohol was his. But it was that same thought that kept him from doing it. The pills were gone. Now she had only him.

He would gladly have escaped it all, just gone and found a bottle and run. If there ever was a way of coping he hadn't been invited to that meeting.

But he stayed by Effie's side. When she didn't want to be touched he didn't touch her. When she needed his comfort he was there. After unspeakable nightmares that almost broke her voice he gave her hot water with teaspoons of honey and when yet another panic attack had her in its grip, almost as painful to watch as it must be for her, leaving her mute and motionless on the bed he stroked her back in soothing circles, mumbling soft words to her until she focused her gaze on him again.

Most of the time he just held her or, more often so, was someone she could hold on to, her body shaking with heartbreaking, helpless sobs that never seemed to end. For the children she reaped, for all those who died when she was spared, for her days at the mercy of the men in white robes, for her nights in an endless darkness, long since abandoned the belief anyone would come for her.

That day when Katniss blew up the arena he'd intended to not let Effie out of his sight but in the end they still got separated. That Effie had been captured because of him was something he knew for a fact. In a different way but at the same time so similarly to how Annie had been captured because of Finnick. He remembered telling Katniss about the president letting him live as an example because he knew he had no leverage against him. Katniss had said 'Until Peeta and I came along' and he couldn't even bear giving her an answer because her statement was just half the truth. He'd let his escort grow too close as well. Not consciously but enough to put her in danger. He'd known almost as long as he'd known her that Effie Trinket was different and he wanted to keep her safe. Problem was he didn't always know what that was. Keeping her close was dangerous for her but so was the opposite. If he hadn't interfered with that promotion of hers, if he'd let her go then before she'd been truly mixed up with them, pushed her away to make her change district it would only have led to her being tried and executed by the rebels later.

After her capture, Plutarch made good on his promise to keep searching for her through his Capitol insiders and Haymitch had just seen Katniss after she was admitted to the burn unit, when there was finally something. Plutarch, as usual, was ever the optimist. Beetee, not as much.

"I shouldn't keep any high hopes, Haymitch," he said. "The building was damaged in the bombing. It's abandoned. Even if she's there she might already be gone."

But it was a straw to grasp at and Haymitch immediately asked for an audience with the President. He was already furious with Coin, for several reason most of which concerned Peeta and Primrose. But he kept calm for Effie's sake, hearing the president's objections and how she so clearly didn't plan on wasting time and resources on an escort whom had already served her purpose – even though she used other words.

Plutarch put forth the argument Effie was imprisoned for being Haymitch's associate, branded rebel and traitor of the state and he talked a lot about the symbolic meaning of having her by the Mockingjay's side on Snow's televised execution. And together they managed to at least get a meeting of whether or not sending out a rescue team to get the escort and the handful other men and women imprisoned for collaborating with the rebels.

How proud he'd been of Effie that day when she gave them gold trinkets, saying they we're a team. Worried about the Capitol's certain reaction too but still so proud because it could so easily have been the other way, couldn't it? If Katniss had pulled out those poisonous berries under Dandridge's regimen she would have gone straight to authorities and filed a report against them.

But Effie hadn't. She'd sided with them, wholeheartedly, with everything to lose.

And then he just returned to his life, leaving Effie behind after the war, when he should have asked her to come with them to Twelve or at least let her know it was an option.  
When Katniss wouldn't open the door for him he'd at least talked with Greasy Sae and had the old woman look after the girl, make sure she ate and was cared for. Who did Effie have? Her parents were dead. The few relatives she had were lost in the war. He didn't know much about her friends but knowing the Capitol and how secretive Effie was, he doubted she confided in a lot of people.

Effie had stilled somewhat in his arms, her face hot and wet from tears.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"'Bout what?"

"I'm sorry for what I said about your mother. It was awful. All of it. And I regret it so much."

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart."

"I don't deserve you," Effie croaked. "I never did. You were right. You should've left me to..."

"Not true and you'd know it too if you weren't so exhausted," said Haymitch. He smoothed back her damp hair from her face. "Try and get some rest, Effie."

"No," Effie sobbed. "It will only start again. I don't want it to start again."

Her hands were cold and he enveloped them in his warm ones, his neck all wet from her tears.

"What're we gonna do with you, sweetheart," he mumbled.

The nights got so long, endless with daylight bringing an apathy in Effie that wasn't much better. He spent the days talking to her and trying to make her eat or at least drink, until the inevitable night that she so dreaded brought on its next chapter of hell.

That day in the hovercraft when the power from takeoff made Effie's coat dance around, he'd watched her hand lifted in goodbye and believed she would be OK. Because she was Effie Trinket. Because she wasn't destructive.

He knew she had moved back into her old building that was almost completely unscratched. Plutarch told him about her giving housing to those who weren't as lucky, about her volunteer work and getting employment at that school. When hearing she returned to her life he went back to his.

And she had found ways to keep herself going for stretches of time. Wasn't so strange really when you thought about it; how she used all of her activities as ways to keep herself busy, not so different from how he drank, Katniss hunted and Peeta baked.

And then there were days like this.

That was the worst part, not seeing her suffer but knowing she'd suffered all along. On her own.

The first real nice summer morning, many days later Haymitch woke with Effie curled up close to him, their arms around each other, foreheads touching, like a pair of children seeking comfort during a thunderstorm.

Her eyelashes were dark against her cheeks but no surprise there really. She was far too pale for his liking, save those dark shadows under her eyes.

He disengaged himself from her, carefully so he wouldn't wake her and got out of bed, getting a bottle from his bag. He scratched his cheek, feeling how beardy he'd got and swallowed a few big mouthfuls of liquor, watching the chatting people walking past their building.

When he looked back at Effie he met a pair of Capitol blue eyes.

"Hey," she mumbled. Her voice was raspy, but at least she was talking. He walked back to her, bottle in hand, and sat down on the bed.

"It's a nice day," he said. "We should go out."

Effie watched the shaft of light illuminating him from behind and looked away again.

"I look terrible," she mumbled.

"So what?" said Haymitch. He rubbed his hand against his neck, stretching out his shoulders with a grunt. "How about Twelve?" he said. "We'll see the kids and… what?" he added when he saw her face. "You don't want to see Katniss and Peeta?"

"Of course I do," Effie said softly. "It's just… what will they think of me, Haymitch? After what happened."

"They already thought you were a nutcase. Not much to add there."

"If I'd just been stronger they wouldn't have to worry about me", Effie mumbled, so quietly he could almost not hear her. "And you wouldn't have to..."

"We're all fucked up, Eff," Haymitch said. He put his bottle on the nightstand, getting to his feet.

The light flickered on automatically when he stepped inside her largest closet, revealing the mirrored wardrobes and a shiny marble table full of curly wigs on creepy stone heads. His eyes swept over wig after wig after wig and many of them he recognized, the sight of their bright colors evoking all kinds of memories.

"I like this one," he said and picked up her golden wig, remembering how she had it especially done to match Katniss's mockingjay pin. He carried it out to Effie, sitting down on the bed. "Even if it makes you look like a clown."

xXx

And so Effie finally got to see the Meadow and it was as peaceful and full of life as she imagined it would be. Katniss and Peeta were with them, sitting cross legged on the grass. They'd almost hugged the life out of Effie when she got here with Haymitch. Despite being the one looking like she'd had a good night's sleep around a thousand years ago Effie didn't fail to fuss over the kids like she always did, patting their hair and fretting over Katniss looking too pale and Peeta looking like he hadn't been eating properly, in her opinion.

Haymitch was content sitting leaned back against a tree, yawning greatly and didn't contribute much to the conversation.

He'd sworn he would never set his foot on the Meadow again. Not after what it'd been used for.

It was Peeta who eventually changed that.

When he returned to Twelve with the boy, Peeta had taken to the habit of wandering around the district and the edges of the woods. The Meadow too. Haymitch hadn't liked the idea of him walking through the ashes and had talked with him about it several times but since he wouldn't stay home Haymitch went with him instead, to keep him from getting hurt or stray too far.  
He'd had better walks, that's for sure. But it seemed to give the boy some odd sense of peace, facing it and because it did, it gave him some too.

Haymitch blinked hard several times, watching Effie through half shut eyes.

When was the last time things had been this peaceful, all four of them together? Effie wasn't the only one to blame for how things usually escalated, even if he liked to think so.

He'd overheard Katniss say to Peeta once that a meal presided over by just Haymitch and Effie was bound to be a disaster and that was true not only for the meals. Effie drove him up the wall in a way no one else managed. She was his royal pain in the neck. But she was also one of the few people who put up with him and all of his drunkenness, keeping him out of more trouble than he cared to admit. His team player and not only when it came to their tributes that she was so fiercely committed to.

She always stood by his side when he fucked things up instead of just throwing him under the bus. It was like she considered herself having the exclusive right to disapprove over his behavior because she wouldn't tolerate anyone else criticizing him. They could be in the middle of a heated argument and if someone walked in and started hammering him about the exact same thing Effie was, she would come to his defense. Katniss and Peeta telling him about her totally snapping at them for making fun of his drinking still made him smile.

She could be annoying, overly optimistic, a real drama queen at times. It didn't matter much to him. She had a good heart. He'd learnt that a long time ago.

"Stay here this summer."

Effie met his gaze at the sound of those words, as if unsure he meant what he said. Haymitch didn't look away.

"That would be nice," Effie said. 

They stayed on the Meadow for the rest of the day.

 **Author's note: Haymitch and Effie both got a taste of what it would be like to lose each other. And now they're spending the summer together. How will that go?**

 **This chapter was a lot harder to write than I thought it would be. Would love to hear your thoughts. :) And hope you all had a great Christmas!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
New beginnings

Buttercup's ugly face poked out from under a honeysuckle bush, his ears flattened at the racket the humans were making.

It could be a glorious day to be Buttercup. A day for bush spraying and field mice chasing. A day to flop down on the grass after you ate and lick yourself clean in the warm sun.

If it hadn't been for those humans and their endless hammering and sawing, shouting and clanking. There was no point in even trying to figure them out.

Somewhere a door opened and Buttercup turned towards the sound. A low growl could be heard deep in his throat when he saw who it was. Her he despised almost more than all of the others combined. The sun caught in the silver tray she was carrying, shining right in Buttercup's face and the cat disappeared, quick and silent as a shadow.

"I've brought you some refreshments," said Effie, her bandana looking like a big bow on top of her head when she joined her team around the skeleton of a house in Haymitch's back garden.

Haymitch bathed in sweat. He tossed the hammer back in the toolbox, causing the nails and screws to hop and he was the first to be by Effie's side.

"Orange juice for Katniss and Peeta," said Effie and gave the children each a glass clinking with ice. "And for Haymitch, your favorite."

Haymitch swept half of his blood orange juice in one go, refilled it with the content of his silver hip flask and slurped it hastily to keep any precious drops from spilling over.

Effie followed his movements with her eyes but she didn't say anything. Instead she admired their work.

"I think they will feel at home here," said Effie. "Who would have thought you would be so skilled at carpentry, Haymitch?"

The shelter was turning out larger then she'd expected. More like a small barn. Haymitch would be able to walk inside of it with ease when they were finished.

"Would've gone a lot faster too if some people had lifted a finger around here," said Haymitch.

But Effie was unfazed by his pointed look.

"I'm keeping you hydrated and well-nourished," she said, offering them some dark rye bread with cottage cheese and avocado. "You can't build a goose pen if you don't have the energy."

Long had the nights been also in District 12. But being surrounded by people who cared for her and whom she could care for in turn had been good for Effie. The first night she slept undisturbed by bad dreams Haymitch turned off her alarm clock so when she finally came to it was to the sound of a mockingjay tapping on the window, the sun flooding the room.

The house was deserted but she found all three of them in Peeta's studio. Well, she was the only one calling it studio. It was simply one of the rooms in the children's house and when Effie opened the door, the boy stood by one of his canvases making a painting of Greasy Sae surrounded by all her grand children and by the table, which still held breakfast, Katniss and Haymitch sat, eating cheese buns and coloring.

Katniss sketched a whole lot of different things, although she seemed more preoccupied with the food and didn't finish many of them. Haymitch on the other hand, whose drawing skills were about as well developed as his hand writing – was completely absorbed in making the most hideous caricature of Effie Trinket to ever see the light of day.

Effie cut herself a roll that she spread with goat's cheese and adding a few apple slices on top of that; a taste sensation that would always remind her of District 12. There was coffee in a thermos for her and when she had emptied half a cup Haymitch put his pen down to flex his fingers and take a mouthful of his own (liquor thinned) coffee. Or maybe his coffee thinned liquor. He pushed a paper towards Effie.

"Knock yourself out," he said.

Effie swallowed the last of her bread, dabbing a napkin against her mouth. He thought she'd go for one of the many pencils in the old jam jar next or maybe say they really should clear the table and take care of the dishes before sitting down to draw.

She did neither.

Effie folded the paper, diagonally. She unfolded it and folded it once more on the middle. Haymitch leaned back in his chair, watching Effie's skilled hands fold and crease the paper, turn it over, make little changes here and there, transform it into something new. She added some finishing touches of colour and then sat it in front of him. A little paper creature. He picked it up.

"A goose?" he asked, looking at it from every angle. Effie nodded.

"I took lessons a few years ago. It's called origami."

He attempted to give it back to her.

"You can keep it," she said. "If you like."

Haymitch smiled and put it on the window sill and when he looked back at Effie, she was smiling too. It was the first time he'd seen it ever since that stupid morning in his kitchen.

And Effie's paper goose evoked new life to an old thought in Haymitch. Something he'd wanted for a long time but hadn't had the energy or maybe courage to make a reality.

There were quite a few useful farm animals in Twelve, if not in great numbers. One woman ran a small poultry farm, supplying the district with both eggs and chicken. One or two families kept themselves with pigs like the Mellarks had. The Goat Man whom had survived the bombings by a stroke of luck and had loathed his time in Thirteen almost more than anyone else had returned to his raising goats as soon as Twelve was somewhat back on its feet. He'd been one of those having temporary housing in the Victor's Village and even though he was the same cranky old loner as he'd always been he'd actually found a young apprentice in Vick who helped him with the goats several days a week. And Greasy Sae's granddaughter, the girl who lived in her own world – her family kept themselves with a couple of sturdy young horses which were of especially good use during the winter months when the roads needed to be cleared.

But if you wanted geese you had to go to District 11 and even though Haymitch would never in a million years admit it, he was grateful when Effie volunteered as his travel companion.

"To keep you from buying half the goose farm", she said although he highly doubted that was the real reason.

Compared with the journey to the Capitol the train ride to District 11 took no time at all.  
How flat this part of Panem seemed compared to District 12, thought Effie, watching the fields filled with chocolate and cream coloured dairy cattle, the crops which stretched out for miles and miles and in the distance, apple trees. A whole sea of them.

Gone were the ten meter fence topped with coils of barbed wire, gone were the watchtowers and the heavily armed peacekeepers.

You felt like ants under the gigantic, cloud-dotted blue sky moving over your head.

With almost an hour left until they were to meet with the geese farmer, Haymitch and Effie walked down to the glittering blue water they'd seen from the train, having a seat in the shadow of a tree close to the beach.

Watching the waves washing in you could almost believe you were in District 4 but it was actually a lake, Panem's largest. Far out there was an island you could get to if you had a boat like the one pulled up on the sand, the name _Pomona_ in white paint on its side.

Effie glanced at Haymitch, the expression in his eyes and she knew he must be thinking about Chaff. How could he not.

Her concern must have shown on her face because Haymitch muttered out,

"Relax, Eff. I'm not gonna break."

Sweat trickled down his back and Haymitch rolled up his sleeves before putting his hand in Effie's pocket getting out her handkerchief that he blotted his face and neck with.

"Um, thank you," said Effie when he stuffed it back in her hand and he undid the first few buttons in his fresh shirt which Effie had made him put on.

God, he needed a drink. He hadn't had one all day and his silver hipflask was stuffed deep in a closet back home. Wisely so. Showing up with alcohol on his breath wouldn't buy him any geese.

"Fucking heat," Haymitch muttered. He undid the rest of the buttons and tugged his shirt off completely, tossing it on the sand. "Wake me when it's time to go," he said and lay down, arm slumped over his eyes. Effie took his discarded shirt, brushed it off and folded it neatly, looking to Haymitch when a deep sigh came over his lips.

Chaff had always been more like a brother to him ever since that drunken night decades ago when Haymitch got off on the wrong floor and passed out in the victor's bed. He'd been a frequent guest victor at the Games and when he wasn't passing a bottle back and forth with Haymitch he made a sport out of provoking fights with peacekeepers, testing how many he could take on. He'd had a gift for getting Haymitch and himself into trouble which it often fell on Effie to get them out of.

He'd been loud, drunk and irresponsible and he'd been one of the few people who could make Haymitch laugh. Genuinely laugh like he had not a care in the world.

She watched Haymitch stretched out on the ground, arm slumped over his eyes like he was asleep which she knew he wasn't. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was over his friend's death but he wouldn't appreciate her bringing it up. He never spoke of the dead. Not with her anyway.

The sunlight shone through the branches, making all that curly dark blonde hair on Haymitch's chest seem golden. Her eyes wandered down his body to the jagged, white scar below his belly button and she always winced when she saw it. Not because it was ugly but because it always made her think about how much it must have hurt receiving it.

He was blonder than usual from long days by the goose pen. Even though she would never admit it to him, he would probably not even believe her if she did, but she really liked his hair. She couldn't put her finger on why exactly. Maybe because it was such a rare thing to come across back home where a messy hair was frowned upon, unless styled that way on purpose.

He wasn't a classic beauty. Some of her friends wouldn't even call him beautiful at all. They would look at him and only see his stomach, the gray hairs in his stubble, the dirt under his fingernails, his weather bitten skin. And yes, those weren't false observations. But they were still wrong.

She felt herself getting a little warm remembering how soft his hair had been when she buried her hands in it at New Year's.

"Eff?" Haymitch said, without even lifting his arm from his face. "Are you undressing me with your eyes, right now?"

Effie blushed through her foundation but she didn't let it show in her voice when she said,

"You are half undressed already."

"You're welcome," mumbled Haymitch. "Who can blame you, right?" he added with a gesture towards his body.

"Yes, Haymitch," said Effie. "You're dreamy."

Haymitch removed his arm from his eyes and Effie frowned when she saw the very real Chaff-up-to-no-good smirk on his lips.

"So, finally gonna admit it was me, huh?"

"Admit you were what?"

"The one you thought about when you got off at the penthouse."

Effie drew a deep sigh.

"For the very last time, Haymitch," she said. "I did not masturbate."

"What were you doing? Searching for a lost item in there?"

"I was asleep! How do you even remember that? It was years and years ago."

It'd been one of those days at the Training Center before the actual Games. Haymitch had wandered the penthouse like he so often did at night and through the windows the Capitol twinkled below, with people singing and celebrating on the streets but he had a bottle of gin in each hand and they would do good on their promise to blur it all out.

Last he saw Effie she'd been going over their tributes' training schedule for the upcoming interviews. He'd thought her in bed by now but when he got out in the sitting room he found her asleep on the couch instead, the clipboard rising and falling with each breath she took.

A gentleman would probably wake her so she could retreat to her bedroom but why would he do that when she was sleeping so sweetly instead of clucking over his manners.

Effie mumbled something in her sleep and a soft moan escaped her lips. She moved slightly, making the clipboard slide off of her landing on the carpet with a soft thud.

He had no business here really, not if Effie was occupying the couch. He took a swig from his bottle and made a move to leave when another moan, deeper this time, came over Effie's lips. Haymitch shot her a glance. She was a whole sea of frilly layers of green. She arched her neck, lips parted when she sighed. Haymitch's eyebrows lifted. He was something of an expert on nightmares. And that was no nightmare. He watched her hand skim over a sofa cushion, squeezing it lightly and a grin slowly spread over Haymitch's face.  
 _  
Not as prim and proper as you have people think, huh?_ he thought and a nasty idea entered his mind.

He put his bottles on the coffee table and leaned in.

"Eff," he said, keeping his voice low and husky. "Effs."

Effie moved her head towards the sound and she groaned again. A tremendous laugh bubbled up inside of him, threatening to spill over but he forced it down and whispered, lingering on every syllable,

"Effie Trinket."

A content little noise escaped Effie's lips and she stretched out one of her long legs, her foot peeking over the end of the couch. Haymitch grinned from ear to ear and he blew softly on her toes peeking through the shoe.

Effie arched her back in response and gave a throaty groan, not at all ladylike, and her hand which had rested on her tummy moved downwards and in between her legs.

"Holy sweet mother of fuck," Haymitch said. OK, that he did not expect.

Despite his call just now Effie's eyes remained closed. He couldn't see just what her hand was doing inside all the fluff and frills and layers of her dress but her deep breathing, the moans dropping from her lips, the way her elbow kept brushing the edge of the coffee table wasn't exactly subtle.

He swallowed thickly, frowning over his own reaction. He knew he should leave, just run fast and far but he was rooted to the spot, unable to tear his gaze from Effie pleasuring herself leaving him throbbing and aching to touch himself or better yet lay down with her and find out if she would let him replace her fingers with his own.

He didn't do any of the above, of course. He wasn't that kind of creeper but he couldn't stop a groan when he watched her come breathlessly and trembling against her hand, her cheeks rosy and he was so unimpressed with himself; that tiny Effie Trinket of all people could have this kind of power over him, that a clown woman he hardly even considered human, let alone attractive, could make his heart beat so hard.

It wasn't until several years later that he told her about it, well… most of it and Effie had ended up confiscating all the bottles from his quarters that season.

"Hey, you were just having fun," he said now, throwing his hands out at the sight of Effie glaring at him, planning on taking the knowledge about his own arousal to his grave. "You're as fun in the sack?"

Effie narrowed her eyes at him. Then her lips curled into a smile.

"I'm fantastic," she said. "You wouldn't be able to walk afterwards. But I'm afraid you will have to keep to your making out with my wig display head like before. I distinctly remember having to wipe it off with a tissue afterwards."

Haymitch's smile had died and he frowned at Effie chuckling at the memory.

"That was low, Trinket."

When the train pulled into District 12's station that evening five geese were on it. Three adults and two goslings. Greasy Sae's daughter, whom Haymitch had spoken with beforehand carted them all back to the Victor's Village in her wagon. Effie sat next to her on the driver's seat while Haymitch rode in the back, keeping an eye on the animals.

And he wasn't the only one.

"You'd think people would have better things to stare at," Haymitch said, watching the faces peeking through curtains, the people on the square who stopped to point and talk amongst themselves. Greasy Sae who stepped out the Hob with Ripper by her side watching their little entourage laughed and called after them that she expected Haymitch to sell her eggs when the time came.

"I don't think many of them believed you would actually go through with this," said Effie.

"Course I would," said Haymitch and Effie smiled at the slightly offended tone in his voice.

Haymitch had a taxing first couple of days making his new family members feel at home.

When first hearing of his decision to get geese Effie had tried to make him change his mind but when she realized that was futile she went down to District 12's small book shop and sent after a thick volume about geese keeping instead, turning herself into an expert on the subject. At least according to herself.

So while Haymitch sweated in the sun, cleaning after the animals, refilling their water, developing a feeding schedule and make them comfortable and used to him, Effie sat by the garden furniture, reading him fun facts about geese and tossing him tips at regular intervals.

"Eff," Haymitch finally sighed from inside the fence, positive he'd get blisters in his ears if she kept going much longer. "How about you stop babbling and make yourself useful for a change?"

One of the geese chose that particular moment to stretch its wings, making it look twice as large as before and Effie shuddered.

"I'm not coming anywhere near those... those... _birds."_

Haymitch crouched down, scooping up one of the two goslings and with the bird in hand he got out of the fence and over to Effie.

"Here," he said extending the gosling to her.

Effie looked suspiciously from Haymitch to the bird and back again.

"Pet her over the back. She won't bite ya."

"How do you know?" said Effie. But she reached out a wary hand, stroking a finger against it like Haymitch suggested. It had eyes like drops of black ink and every once in a while it let out a sound, like a whistle.

"Well, you are rather cute," Effie had to confess.

Haymitch took her hand in his, placing the gosling on her palm. It was the color of custard, light creamy brown over the back, soft as a kitten and Effie had almost started to enjoy petting it when the bird suddenly flapped its little stumps of wings and Effie gave a start of surprise and the bird flopped down on the grass, where it instantly regained its feet with a whistle.

"What're you doing?" Haymitch said with an accusing look at Effie. He crouched down to pick up the gosling, intending to carry it back to the goose pen. But he hadn't taken into account the gosling's intensions. When he tried to grab her she dashed out of his reach with a merry whistle. Haymitch went after and Effie too, both trying to catch the gosling and it all escalated into a real zigzag chase through the Victor's Village you'd think wouldn't be possible with the escapee having such short legs.

"Who the hell drops a baby?" Haymitch said.

"I didn't," said Effie. "It just…" she dove for the gosling but it darted to the right with a loud whistle.

"Stop scaring it!" Haymitch snapped.

At such an incredible unfairness Effie stopped short and the gosling took the opportunity to slip under a front porch.

"Damnit," Haymitch muttered.

He squatted down by it. It was one of the empty houses where the Hawthornes had once lived. He peered through the darkness between the porch and the ground and stuck his hand inside.

"Come here before the rats eat you."

It piped and whistled under there but no gosling came out.

"Never a break," Haymitch sighed and he got down on his stomach, sticking his hand inside as long as he could reach, feeling around. "There," he said with a grunt, hand closing around something soft and furry. He pulled it out. "That's the last time I'll ever let you touch the…"

But he stopped short when he saw what he was holding.

"What is that?" said Effie. "Is it… is it a kitten?"

The little fur ball piped helplessly, covered in dirt. A whistle was heard by their feet and there stood the gosling, looking curiously up at Haymitch. Effie took her before she could make another escape.

"Poor little one. Is it abandoned?" she asked Haymitch.

"Probably," he said and before Effie could even grow weary she'd gone and put the gosling back with the others so she could follow Haymitch inside.

"Call the Hob and see if Katniss's there," said Haymitch, closing himself in the bathroom.

The cat stunk, partially covered in crusts of dirt and urine and stool. He sat down on the toilet seat, holding the little creature over the washbasin. He wasn't 100 percent sure what to do and how to wash it but he attached the plug to the bathtub and turned the water on as scorching hot as possible so the steam would heat up the room, instinctively wanting to keep it warm.  
He could feel it's every bone through the tufts of gray fur. It couldn't be more than a few weeks old.

Effie entered a moment later, closing the door after herself, telling him Katniss was on her way.

"She will get the necessities from town," she said. "We are to clean him little by little under the stream and keep him warm."

Haymitch turned the faucet on a gentle stream of warm water and while Effie got out clean cotton towels from a cabinet Haymitch held the kitten in one hand while carefully washing and rinsing it with the other, the washbasin getting dark with dirt. The cleaner the cat got the more it meowed and moved around; a good sign, Haymitch reckoned. He cleaned and patted it with a towel, much assisted by Effie and her hairdryer.

They heard the front door open and it was a relief for both of them to see Katniss, since the girl had actually gone through this one time before when Prim made her save Buttercup.

Haymitch and Katniss retreated to the kitchen with the kitten and Effie could hear their mumbling voices while she cleaned up in the bathroom, rinsing the worst out of the towels hanging them to dry and putting everything back in its places.

Haymitch sat at the table with the kitten between two towels, surrounded by a variety of different items, including a kitchen scale and a small baby bottle standing in a water bath. Katniss was just dropping some milk on her wrist to feel its temperature when Effie joined them.

"Alright," said Haymitch clearing his throat awkwardly, moving the towels with the kitten towards Katniss. "Here you go."

Katniss lifted her eyebrows at her old mentor.

"I already have a cat", she said. "This one's all yours."

"I have geese to look after," Haymitch frowned. He looked to Effie. "You're a cat person, right? I'll give you this."

Effie smiled, having a seat across from him.

"Oh, no, Haymitch," she said. "I wouldn't dream of separating the two of you."

"I'll talk you through it," said Katniss and Haymitch gave a deep sigh.

It took a few attempts to make the kitten nurse but Katniss gently helped it to latch on and finally it was eating so desperately it hurt to see how hungry it must have been. Katniss showed Haymitch how to hold the bottle and move in time with the kitten's movements and once she saw he got it right she went out to check that there weren't more kittens lying around the Victor's Village and then head into town to ask around if anyone was missing a kitten.

"I never thought I would witness this," said Effie, watching the tiny little ball of fur with Haymitch awkwardly holding the bottle, trying to adjust to the kitten's movements. It held its paws against the bottle sucking so intently you could hear it. Its soft fluffy fur was a lot darker than it had seemed when it was covered in dirt. Dark gray that shifted in color and a pair of round dark blue eyes was looking up at them.

"Do you realize what this means, Haymitch?" Effie smiled. "You've become a mommy."

And Haymitch cared for the kitten, reluctantly, unwillingly, unenthusiastically so but cared for him just the same and just as well as any mother would, if not without complaint.

"I don't have time for this," he muttered when it was three in the morning and he had to rub a wet towel against the kitten's butt to make him poo. "I have geese."

No one heard him except the kitten because Effie was back in her old guestroom. That way at least one of us will get some sleep, Haymitch had said with a sigh.

He named him Scotch. Which was a terrible name for a kitten, according to Effie.

"If you had to name him after an alcoholic beverage", she told him when he lay stretched out on the couch, bottle of whiskey in hand and Scotch crawling over his chest, "couldn't you have chosen a pretty name like Spirit or Moonshine?"

But Haymitch couldn't be swayed. He drank his whiskey and scratched Scotch's neck, saying he should just as well let him have Effie's last name.

"Cause he sound just like you," he said, with Scotch giving a long squeak right on cue.

Both Katniss and Peeta had asked around if there was anyone missing a kitten but neither of the few people who owned cats had had any kittens at all, at least that's what they said. There were wild cats out in the woods, Katniss could testify on that, but it was still odd.

But as far as Scotch was concerned, life was extraordinarily good anyway. And that big, muttering man who gave him milk and bathed him and, when no one else was looking, kissed him on top of his head – him he liked and once he could walk with greater ease Scotch followed him wherever he went and he protested loudly whenever Haymitch closed himself in the bathroom or had business into town.

Finally Haymitch grew tired of it and scooped him up and one thing was for sure: they got a good laugh, Greasy Sae and Ripper, Bristel and Thom and all of the others when Haymitch pushed inside the Hob to get his usual supply of liquor and he had Scotch peeking out of his breast pocket.

One of those times when Haymitch exited the Hob he met Posy who was out in an errand for her mother and the girl fell in complete awe over Haymitch's little passenger and after that he could hardly ever got rid of her.

Several times a day you could see Posy running between the Seam and the Victor's Village so she could watch Haymitch feed Scotch with the little bottle. She helped him care for the cat too, if Haymitch wanted it or not. She went into town whenever they ran out of something, she dabbed the cat's chin to catch any drops of milk when he ate, she stood at the ready with towels and Effie's hairdryer when it was bathing time and one morning she showed up with a tiny kitten blanket she'd sewn all by herself so Scotch wouldn't get cold at night. Katniss had been there to hear that last part and she'd said, a little sadly, that it was like hearing Prim with Buttercup.

The older cat wasn't at all thrilled over the new addition. The first time he ever saw Scotch, bouncing and hopping around on the grass, playing and biting on a paper ball with Posy giggling, pulling on its string he gave Katniss a look like he wanted to ask what the hell that was supposed to be. It didn't get better when Scotch the next moment discovered the funny, muddy yellow thing flicking on the grass and jumped on it and Buttercup disappeared through the underbrush and didn't show his face for the rest of the day.

Haymitch was starting to look worn out, having the geese to look after during the day plus Scotch who needed feeding and changing round the clock.

Effie had offered to help several times but Haymitch was reluctant to let anyone else care for Scotch, except maybe Posy.

One evening when Effie, dressed in her pink dressing gown, wanted to fill her water glass for the night she found Haymitch sitting on the toilet, his pants and underpants by his ankles and he was snoring slumped over the washbasin. On the worn, old bathroom rug lay Scotch playing with his tail. Effie scooped him up and tried to shake some life into Haymitch. When she couldn't she took Scotch with her to Haymitch's room.

The prepared bottle was still warm and Effie made herself comfortable in the armchair with Scotch on her lap.

"You are so precious," she mumbled. Scotch managed to bump the nipple out his mouth and he piped loudly in protest. "And you don't at all sound like me."

She helped him to latch on again and she caressed him softly while he ate with a strange look in her eyes.

When he was done she took care of him the way she'd seen Haymitch do so many times and the kitten was ready for bed by the time she heard the toilet flush and a very red-eyed Haymitch appeared. He pulled off his clothes as he went and climbed into bed without a word, burying his face in a pillow.

Effie carried Scotch over to him, having a seat on the bed and the kitten immediately lay down on Haymitch's face. He sputtered, getting his mouth full of fur and moved him an inch. He gave a tremendous yawn.

"Get some sleep, Haymitch," said Effie. "I can take care of him tonight."

"No, I'll do it," Haymitch mumbled. "Set the alarm, would you?"

She did so and when she was done Haymitch met her gaze and said,

"Hazelle asked if they can adopt him."

"Oh," said Effie.

"He's still too little. But when he's older… Posy's a good kid. He'd get a good home at Hazelle's. I said he could live there for a while and we'll see how they get along."

Effie stroked Scotch's fur.

"I'm going to miss him," she said.

The kitten grazed its little paw against Haymitch's nose and she saw the expression in his eyes when looking at Scotch.

"The Seam is not far away, Haymitch," she said. "You will see each other again, I'm sure."

"Jeez, Eff. It's just a cat," Haymitch muttered. "Maybe I'll finally get to have my curtains in one piece now."

Effie said nothing, but he wasn't fooling anyone; least of all her.

Haymitch arranged Scotch in his sleeping basket and when he squeaked, Haymitch kept his hand there so the kitten could come to a rest against it. Not two minutes later, they were both out.

Haymitch always looked so peaceful when he slept. You wouldn't believe his sleep was so often ridden with unspeakable nightmares when looking at him like this.

Was he aware of how much she worried about him? How badly she wished he would one day find peace?

After their goodbye when Haymitch, Katniss and Peeta had all returned to the ashes of their district with Effie unable to tell how they were, how they were coping she'd called them. Not persistently but every once in a while. There was never an answer and finally she called Dr. Aurelius who was responsible for both Katniss's and Peeta's treatment. He couldn't, wouldn't break his patient confidentiality but hearing the worry in her voice he told her he was in close contact with Haymitch and that she should give them time.

So that's what she did. She gave them space, letting them contact her when they were ready. And while she worried, it was still a comforting thought that Katniss and Peeta had Haymitch, that they had each other.

He was shattered and broken but he would care for them to the extent of his ability. Because no matter how he seemed on the surface, his rough ways and rough looks, all of it was betrayed by his eyes, his gentle hand, that whatever he said held love and tenderness and caring.

When she had most needed him, he was there. When Katniss and Peeta needed him he was there and when the little abandoned creature who now slept in the basket needed someone he was there too. He took care of everyone.

Just not himself.

She smoothed back Haymitch's hair and before she retreated to her own room leaving them both to rest she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

 **The "** **Because no matter how he seemed on the surface" line is inspired by an early interview with Jennifer about Woody/Haymitch. You can read it here:** article/2012/03/02/hunger-games-jennifer-lawrence-woody-harrelson

 **Also, I've gone back and re-edited chapter 1, 2 and 3. While there's no major changes to the plot or content there are slight changes in dialogue and some cuts have been made.**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
Memories

"Bye, dear ones."

Effie wrapped her arms around first Katniss and then Peeta, patting their hair like she always did no matter how old they got.

The morning sun reflected itself in the silver train that would take Effie home. The bags were already in her sleeping car but Effie lingered on the platform, not wanting to part just yet. She squeezed Katniss's and Peeta's hands, swallowing and swallowing.

"Take care, Effie," said Peeta, smiling at her.

Haymitch said nothing. He stood there, hands in his pockets, squinting at the sun having to go up so early to see her off. His eyes were so red from last night's drinking they looked like they were bleeding. Effie wrapped her arms around him.

"Bye, Haymitch," she whispered. Her eyelashes tickled his skin when she dropped a kiss to his cheek. "I'm going to miss you."

Haymitch patted her awkwardly on the back.

"Better get on that train, sweetheart," he muttered.

Effie released her hold on him. She drew a trembling breath, looking between the three of them.

"Thank you," she said. "For everything. Don't forget that I," she said and her voice caught at the end. "Don't forget I would feel very reassured to know you will drink plenty of water when it is hot outside. And use sunscreen."

There was a blow of a whistle and Effie boarded the train. Katniss and Peeta smiled and waved at her when she blew them some kisses. Seeing Haymitch standing there in his shabby, wrinkled shirt that was missing a button she was almost overcome with affection towards him but then another passenger wanted to board, forcing Effie to step back into the train corridor and she couldn't see them anymore.

Tears stung her eyes and Effie just kept on walking through the narrow hallways, past her sleeping chamber until she entered the warm, sunlit dining car. There was never many getting on or off in District 12 and the restaurant was mercifully empty of people, save herself and the woman behind the counter selling sandwiches and hot and cold beverages.

Effie bought herself a coffee and sat down by the window. Looking out at District 12's grimy little station she almost hoped Haymitch and the children would walk up to her window but of course they must already be on their way back to the Victor's village.

Effie pressed her lips together trying to compose herself, her heart almost breaking with homesickness for the place that she was leaving. She opened the clasps of her handbag and got out her planner, trying to focus on tomorrow's meetings, feeling pathetic for dreading the thought of her empty, silent apartment so much.

She'd always been used to managing everything on her own and when she couldn't she learned to cope with the help of sleeping pills. You didn't share your pain in the Capitol. Just the mentioning of any ugly sides to life sent most people running – even those who considered themselves being your close friends and family.

But Haymitch hadn't. Not when she was at her ugliest, her absolute worst. Not even when she threw a shoe at him, leaving a red mark on his cheek.

When she would break into fits of sobbing, often just after the sun had disappeared, leaving her terrified of things she couldn't even formulate to herself Haymitch was never far away.  
He didn't dismiss her, didn't mutter at her to pull herself together, that she knew nothing about real pain, that she was weak and pathetic. During these past few months she'd spent with him Haymitch must have hugged her more times than any other person in her life.

Even after things had started to get better, there were still times when she came into his room in the dead of night, face pale, just wanting to escape the shadows and ghosts in her room. And he would lend her a book or she would pull the armchair up to his bed and they'd play chess together, using the stone chessboard she got for his birthday, while Scotch slept soundly in his basket.

They didn't talk much. They didn't need to. And it wasn't one of those uncomfortable silences Effie felt she had to fill with words. Only a silent understanding; a wish to keep the darkness at bay.

Effie took a sip of her coffee and when the train made a slight jerk, rolling out of District 12's station she couldn't keep a tear from running down her cheek, dropping into her cup.

And that was when Haymitch poked her in the ribs, right on her tickle spot.

Effie shrieked and her cup toppled over, sending a sea of coffee all over her planner.

"Haymitch!?" Effie cried staring up at her ex-colleague who looked like he'd just sauntered in by coincidence. "What on Earth are you... My planner!"

She sprung to her feet, getting out her white hankie while Haymitch just sat down across from her, his silver hip flask already in hand.

The woman behind the counter brought paper napkins with Effie begging a thousand times forgiveness. Haymitch who was just having a few good mouthfuls from his hipflask received a look from the woman before she left again without a word.

"I wish you wouldn't flaunter your drinking in her face," Effie said, falling all over herself trying to save her planner. "It's not even legal to drink here. What will she think of us? Oh, just look at my planner!"

"What a scene out there," said Haymitch. "You're going off to war or something? You're coming back in a week."

Effie shot him a glare as she dabbed the napkins against her planner, against the table with agitated, flicking motions.

"Can't live without me, huh?"

"If there's anyone who can't live without the other it's you!"

"Yeah? What's that in your eye?"

"Train dust!"

Haymitch smirked and swallowed another mouthful from his hipflask. Then he reached for Effie's bag.

"I can have this, right?" he said, getting out the wild turkey sandwich Peeta had made for her.

"That's _my_ sandwich," said Effie with a huff of impatience, tossing a ball of coffee stained napkins onto the table.

She sighed.

"You can have half of it."

xXx

Effie's fingertip left a line in the dust on the mahogany table and Effie looked at it as if it had personally offended her. There was the telltale clinking of glass and she turned, seeing Haymitch by the liquor cabinet.

"Now, Haymitch, remember. Those are not for drinking all at once."

"So for the next bunch of hours I'm gonna do... what?" he asked, having a mouthful from his glass.

"Oh, there are plenty of things you can do," Effie smiled. "You can... relax in the hot tub. You can run the treadmill. You can visit my library. All mahogany," she added as is that decided things.

She was already dressed for work in a chocolate brown suit that made her look annoyingly fine with a simple brown sheep on top of her head. Haymitch sipped his drink, admiring her ass in that tight skirt while she called for the cab that would take her to the Academy.

"So, a couple of rules," she said, when she turned to him again. "No drinking in the hot tub. Nu using the hot tub until two hours from now, at the earliest. Always use a coaster if you put any glasses on the mahogany table. Don't drink in the white arm chair. Don't drink standing on the carpets." Haymitch rolled his eyes. "If you get hungry you can take whatever you like from the kitchen and…"

Only the flash of light through the window when the cab pulled up to the curb would finally shut Effie up and she reached for her bag.

"Please, don't drink too much", she said. "I would like to take you out to dinner when I return."

Haymitch leaned against the frame to the front door, thrumming his index finger against his glass. He took sip and just when Effie opened the car door he could have sworn he saw a pair of eyes staring at him from across the street. But when he looked closer, there were only empty windows.

"Bye, Haymitch. I'll see you this afternoon," said Effie, the window rolled down on her side.  
Haymitch emptied his glass and made a motion to go back inside. "And Haymitch…"

"What?"

"I'm very happy that you are here", she said. "I think it's going to be…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, delicious, de-lovely, delectable. Bye, Eff."

"Bye, Haymitch."

The car drove off and the last thing he heard was Effie's voice saying,

"Remember, no drinking in the hot tub!"

Haymitch kicked the front door shut, heading back to the drinking cabinet. He took a bottle, not caring which one and snapped the seal, gulping it down right from the neck. Some of it escaped down his chin, disappearing into the carpet and Haymitch rubbed his hand against his mouth, a little out of breath.

He eyed the remaining bottles in the cabinet. He'd never shared Effie's preference for rainbow drinks but alcohol was alcohol. Maybe he could get away with adopting a few of them for the journey back if he let her take him out to dinner later. It'd been a dry trip here with just his hip flask.

His glass was put aside on the table and it wasn't until he'd got out a second bottle that he remembered Effie saying something about coasters and mahogany and he quickly removed it again, wiping away the wet ring with his shirtsleeve.

He retreated to the couch with his bottles and for a long moment he just lay there, drinking and relaxing.

He wondered how things were going back home with the geese.

The look on the kids' faces when he stopped the train attendant from closing the door told him he'd given them ideas again. Yeah, well. He'd give them that little moment of amusement then, even though they were wrong. He was just making sure Effie would be OK.  
 _  
Yeah, right._ For some reason the thought spoke exactly in Johanna Mason's voice. _She doesn't need you for anything now._ _You could've spent the rest of the week shitfaced but instead you followed her to the Capitol! Can't be that you actually enjoy spending time with her?  
_  
He drank the bottle dry and then he pulled himself up and to the kitchen. There was a note on the fridge and he remembered Effie saying something about Venia helping her watering the plants and getting some fresh groceries in town.  
 _  
Hope you enjoyed your recreational visit to District 12,_ he read. "Recreational visit"? Well, that was one way to put it. He poked his head in the fridge and the pantry filling a plate with a little of this, a little of that. Crackers, cheese, chunks of chicken, black olives, purple grapes. Back in the living room he pulled the curtains apart, looking out on the street, wondering about that pair of eyes he'd seen in the window. But a cloud of dust was released when he did so and he backed away quickly to keep his food from getting soiled.

He popped an olive into his mouth, spitting out the seed on his plate in a way that would've made Effie shudder. The sun illuminated the specks of dust in the air and he let his eyes wander.

Maybe it was the booze; that pleasant, half drunk feeling that often filled him before getting flat-out drunk but he felt a genuine desire to have a look around. He never had before, not really. Most of his days here he'd been too busy either quarrelling with her or trying to keep her in one piece.

Plate in hand, every once in a while stuffing himself with something, he looked over the paintings. Buildings mostly. He vaguely remembered seeing some of them here in the Capitol but most of them he didn't recognize at all, with names he couldn't pronounce. He ran a finger against one of the frames revealing the gilded hue underneath.

Attached to one of the mirrors was a sun bleached greeting card with an over snowed cluster of rowanberries. He detached it carefully, turning it over. A birthday card, signed "Annabel", whoever that was.

Blue and purple potted plants stood on the window sills. They had blooms like small trumpets and on the side table, in a tall glass vase was one perfect peacock feather.

His naked feet brushed soundlessly against the carpets as he walked over to the bookshelf. No books in it except a couple of folios, all of them about architecture. On one shelf was a glass miniature of the Capitolium, surrounded by a whole array of paper animals. No geese but frogs and flamingos, cats and fish, penguins, butterflies.

On the shelf below was a small box with letter papers and envelopes and in another, lying on a bed of velvet, was a pretty fountain pen as blue as Effie's eyes with a lethal looking metal nib. She had a magazine rack next to the empty wastebasket; all fashion magazines and a few numbers of her Capitol newspaper.

Bringing a bottle as only company he went out into the corridor, feeling the doors as he went. Some of them, like the room she used for running, he closed shut immediately. Others like her dining room he poked his head in momentarily, looking around at the furniture covered with white sheets. The library was all mahogany, although it was smaller than he'd expected, with bookshelves covering all walls except one where you could relax in an armchair by the window.

His eyes wandered across the titles and he was just about to get out one of them when he saw something else. A large leather bound thing with two different years elegantly written on the back. He got it out and opened it but even though he'd guessed it right that it was an album, these were no regular photos.

He sat down in the armchair, the album opened in front of him. The photos looked like they were made out of glass. He touched one of them with a light fingertip and the photo lit up like a button.

The library disappeared. He could still make out the ceiling and bits of the floor but he was looking into another room. Effie's living room and it was filled with pink balloons and flamboyantly dressed men and women in every corner, their eager voices reaching him as if they were actually there.

He knew this type of images. It was the same kind you could get projected onto your window at the penthouse. Although this one was more lifelike. As if you'd walked right into a movie.

One of them, a woman in her mid thirties with elegant hair dyed in brown and yellow stripes sat in the middle of the circle, in the middle of the attention. She was holding a tiny bald baby in a frilly pink gown that everyone was swooning over – the baby and the gown.

"Little Euphemia," one woman cooed. "Look at those long eyelashes. Those pink lips. I'm sure she's going to grow up into a very beautiful woman."

"To think finally, after all these years…"

"What a doll!"

"If only she had more hair. But it will grow I'm sure."

"We're hoping she'll be in that new bouncy seat commercial", said Effie's mother. "They're holding auditions next week."

Little Effie slept soundly despite the commotion going on around her. So tiny, with pink flowers painted on her temple and one of her hands clutching around a corner of her gown. Effie's mother smiled, looking down at her.

The scene cut. Haymitch had but a second to see the library again before another room was shown. He didn't recognize it at first but then he realized it was the guestroom Effie always lent him.

Now it was a nursery. The pinkest nursery he'd ever seen. In the middle of the room, sitting around a children's table were two kids, about four or five years old. They were coloring under completely silence. One of them a boy with orange hair. The other kid could be no one other than Effie, dolled up in a pink dress with a purple belt forming a bow at the back.

He'd never seen a calmer, more straight-backed five year old in his life. Maybe it was different when the camera was off but still. Didn't seem natural.

She put her pencil down now, looking straight at him.

"You finished?" said a voice, the man who held the camera.

"Yes, daddy."

"Can I see?"

She got up from the chair with her drawing between her hands and even though she walked perfectly like a lady you could still feel her eagerness like electricity in the air. Haymitch come face to face with little Effie Trinket who smiled at her father and even though she couldn't see _him_ of course Haymitch couldn't help but return her smile. He'd never seen a cuter kid in his life. Her reddish blonde hair was pulled back and formed some kind of odd hair bow on top of her head. To match the bow at her back, he guessed but her hair wouldn't conform and tests and curls of it stuck out here and there.

She extended the drawing to her father and Haymitch got a glimpse of something that looked like a rainbow.

"Oh," said Effie's father, and there was disappointment in his voice. "That's good, Effie but you need to do better. And not just a rainbow. You want to win first prize, don't you pumpkin?"

"Yes, daddy," she said. Her father gave her the drawing and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. Effie sat down at the table again, reaching for a pencil.

When the scene cut the next time Effie was older but only slightly. She sat on the edge of her bed, her mother putting the finishing touches to her hair that was pulled back in a bun this time. Effie sat completely still with her hands folded on her lap, dressed in pink tweed, with her shiny black boots not reaching the floor.

"This will have to do, I guess," Effie's mother sighed. She squeezed Effie's hand and smiled at her. "Are you excited, Effie?"

Effie nodded.

"You be a good girl today. You want to make mommy and daddy proud, don't you?"

Effie nodded.

"Look into the camera and tell daddy what you will become today."

"School girl," said Effie and her mother chuckled and kissed her temple, dabbing a handkerchief where her lips had touched her skin.

"Let's get your coat. You don't want to be late for your first day."

The scene cut again with Haymitch's bottle completely forgotten on the table.

xXx

The hot tub Effie had spoken about was sunk into the bathroom floor. It was dry and empty now but at the press of a few buttons, water, bubble bath and oil filled it to the edge with fragrant bubbly water. Haymitch stripped, leaving clothes all over as he went and when he lowered himself into the hot, silky water he couldn't stop a sigh, leaning back with only his head poking up above the bubbles.

Glimpses and images of what he'd just seen kept re-playing in his mind. It was astonishing really, how little he actually knew about Effie's past. He hadn't wanted to know anything about her in the beginning of course. But even after she'd become more of an ally and even a friend she had almost never confided in him about her past. She would give him "fun facts", like when she told him about her parents' first date at the Capitolium. But almost never any of the deep stuff, anything that could help him figure her out.

After what he'd just seen and in the wake of everything that had happened lately he wondered more than ever. He thought back to the skinny chit of a girl Effie had been when he first met her and had actually been grateful over (the first ten minutes or so) because how could she be any worse than Dandridge?

What had Effie's life been like up to that point?

Was she happy? Had she been loved?

Her parents had paraded her around like a damn show dog. Prepping her for beauty contests and ice skating contests, TV commercial auditions, fashion shows and other equally stupid things but they still looked like they loved her. Something in the way they interacted with her. It might be just the thought of the future glory she would bring them that they loved but he wasn't sure on that one. Effie's parents weren't quite how he'd imagined them.

There'd been a time and for many years when he would have scoffed and said Capitolians can't love. Not for real. But even if it was damn hard to admit, he knew deep down that it wasn't true. Even if they were foolish scarecrows they were still human beings under all that crap and they must care for their own. The parents' reaction watching their children being blown to bits outside the President's mansion was proof of that if anything.

To say they can't really love, not like you and I love must be as arrogant as the Capitolians saying the district people aren't really people like you and me.

Effie's parents had looked at their daughter with eyes shining with love. And still she was a disappointment to them? Something told him there was a clue for him right there.

A low, bad-tasting belch escaped Haymitch's lips and he rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.

And then there was that boy with the orange hair. He'd seen him in frame after frame, always by Effie's side.

Was that him? Alexander. He'd never stopped wondering about him. Back when he first moved in with Effie after her overdose he noticed she'd moved the box with the embroidery with Alexander's name on it.

Was he a cousin? Maybe he was her brother.

After one of their wakeful nights in Twelve when they sat on his porch, he'd flat-out asked her.

She wouldn't speak of it. The only words she said, or mumbled rather, was "long ago", and then Peeta appeared and Effie took her chance following him into town. She'd thrown a look at Haymitch over her shoulder, guilt written all over her face, but she didn't stop.

On the hospital back when Effie was rescued from prison and Plutarch came to visit she'd asked him about her family. He remembered holding her hand. He also remembered neither of the relatives she'd asked after had had such a common name as Alexander.

It would probably be an easy task to go search her apartment and once and for all find out. He was good at leaving everything exactly where he found it when he had to.

But it just felt too rotten to do that. He would have hated her if she did it to him. Might get pissy at him for just watching those photos. That thought hadn't even crossed his mind until now and he made a mental not so himself to not hurry and tell her.

Haymitch sipped his bottle, looking at his toes peeking through the bubbles, his mind getting hazy even from Effie's lame alcohol.

The last thing he thought about before he drifted off to sleep was little Effie Trinket and her eyes following her parents around the room.

xXx

"That was the very last time I find you asleep in the bathtub, Haymitch."

The artificial air brushed balmy against their faces but Effie's lips were pursed in displeasure, her arm looped around Haymitch's. "And Panem knows I've seen enough of your private parts to last me a lifetime."

"Oh, give it a rest", said Haymitch. "Like you didn't always take that extra look when you stripped me down during the Games."

"Don't be preposterous, Haymitch. Of course I didn't," said Effie but her cheeks flushed pink.

They were walking across the Promenade with the blue water of the barrage glittering on one side. An invisible forcefield separated you from the edge except for the archway overgrown with green leaves and lemons where you could board the public riverboat that slowly and steadily took its passengers to different parts of the city.

"It stops by the National Library of Panem," Effie told him because she could never miss out on an opportunity to act tour guide. "It's opened to the public now, maybe you heard."

Haymitch muttered something in affirmative. He was silently grateful having Effie there to support him as he didn't feel too steady. More than anything he'd like to lie down.

His eyes fell on a stone bench a couple of meters ahead and he immediately pulled Effie towards it, sitting down with a grunt and leaning his arms against his thighs. Effie sat down as well, so straight you could balance a wine glass on her head even with that stupid wig on. He expected a lecture about posture but it wasn't coming.

Effie looked out at the barrage, the sun turning the water to diamonds.

"Look," she said and Haymitch glanced to where she nodded. Far up there a bright purple hot air balloon floated through the heavens. "You see them all through summer here", said Effie. "People climb aboard in Cupid's Garden and it takes you around the city."

"Talk about not having better things to do."

Effie smiled.

"I know it's silly. It's just that I always wanted to try it when I was a child. But my parents didn't think it was safe."

"Figures," muttered Haymitch.

"I have something for you," Effie said. "I know it's a little early but I thought..."

And from the depths of her bag she got out a small round box, all wrapped up.

"You know you don't have to keep getting me gifts," said Haymitch.

"Of course I know I don't have to," said Effie. "I want to. Happy birthday, Haymitch."

He unwrapped it getting out a round box, and inside was a small glass cube. He held it on his palm and first he thought it was some kind of ornament, like the glass miniature in Effie's bookshelf. But then Effie brushed her fingertip on top of the cube and immediately an image lit up from it.

"I wanted to give you something special and not just things like a chessboard", said Effie. "So I thought I'd give you a memory of... well, a family." She said so almost apologetically. As if afraid he'd take offence for her taking that word in her mouth.

Unlike the life size moving pictures he'd seen in Effie's library, this one was more like an actual photo. Of him sitting by the garden furniture next to Katniss and Peeta, with the geese pen at their backs.

"I hope that was alright," she said.

"Why aren't you on it?"

"I took the picture, remember," said Effie. "I really like this photo of you."

"You should've been on it." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them but once they were he knew they were true. He hadn't averted his gaze from the photo all this time but he looked at her now.

Effie Trinket had many smiles and having known her all these years Haymitch thought it was safe to say he knew all of them. There was her wide Capitol smile that had fooled even him in the beginning. Her dazzling smile she put on when she needed to charm someone. Her teasing and/or malicious smile which always seemed to end up with her out-bitching him. Her sad smile that was positively heart wrenching. Her bright, genuine smile that made you think Effs Trinket might actually be alright.

But then there was this one. The one on her lips right now that he wasn't at all sure he liked and absolutely not used to get. A smile so full of warmth he swore she could melt snow with it and he always ended up looking away or else he'd start noticing how pretty Effie's eyes were and that was never good for him.

For a long moment neither of them spoke.

"No one's ever done what you did for me that night and after," Effie said quietly. "I never thought that…"

"You have people who care about you, Eff", said Haymitch. "That never changed. If you go spiraling down again don't drug yourself out. Just call me."

"I will," said Effie. She hesitated, her gaze fluttering to his pocket where he had his silver hipflask. "You know the same goes for you, don't you? Instead of… If you need me I would…"

"It's not that simple, Eff," said Haymitch.

"But you know you have people who care about you as well?" said Effie. "Don't you?"

Haymitch looked down at Katniss and Peeta smiling back at them from the photo.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Can't say I know why."

"Oh, Haymitch," said Effie. "And you were known for being clever."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
The wind soft upon your face

Haymitch's eyes were bleary and red when he crossed the threshold to the kids' house. He peeked his head in the living room long enough to see Annie asleep on the couch with her boy curled up close, before he headed for the kitchen.

"Morning, handsome." Seven's victor sat perched up against the kitchen sofa, a piece of straw between her lips. The oven was on and Katniss stood by the sink putting layers of fish slices and cheese into a greased baking dish.

"Need any help?" Haymitch asked. His voice was still slurred from just waking up.

"Nothing to do yet really," Katniss said. "Johanna already set the table. You can help Effie."

"Your Capitol babe went down to pick apples," Johanna said.

Haymitch's brow crinkled.

"Not my babe," he answered. "Why's she picking apples?"

"Pie. So you have until dinner if you wanna scrump her."

Haymitch gave her a scowl that Johanna returned with a wink and a wiggle of the straw between her teeth.

"Thanks," he said, poured himself a glass of water than he gulped down before leaving without another word.

Apples. When it came to trying something new Effie sprung to action, eagerly as a child. Had she offered to do the baking as well? Would have to be over at the kids' house then. He'd only just aired out the smoke from her last cooking attempt.

Haymitch sighed.

What he wouldn't do for a trip to the Hob! To have a proper drink in peace and refill his stashes, with both Effie and the kid conveniently out of the way.

But still, he felt he ought to give Effie a hand. She'd been taking care of their guests and she didn't kick up a fuss when he fell asleep after lunch.

Besides, with his luck he bet the kid would show up just when he came back with his clinking bag and even though he wasn't one to ever apologize for his drinking he didn't feel good about waving his bottles right before the boy's eyes.

He was a strange little specimen, Finn, staring at him and following him around, especially when Haymitch checked on the geese and thought he would get a few moments alone with the bottles hidden in the shelter.

It was spooky how much he resembled his father. Same bronze-colored hair. Same sea-green eyes. Annie sent them a photo after his birth and there'd been a the resemblance even then of course but when he saw the kid step out onto the platform with his mother and Johanna and Effie he'd actually started. Because it was like looking at a younger version of Finnick.

Of course, he couldn't be one hundred percent sure about the eyes. Annie's were sea-green too. She looked much healthier than last time he saw her even if she had a tendency to drop out of the conversation sometimes. But not when it came to Finn and Haymitch also noticed that whenever it happened Johanna was the one bringing her back, by throwing her a comment or a question or sometimes just with a squeeze of her shoulder. Johanna had been one of the first to learn about the baby and she'd come with Annie when she returned to Four. Not because she had to or wanted to (she hadn't) but for feeling a responsibility because of Finnick.

The three of them now lived in the Victor's Village. All Four's victors save Annie were gone but their surviving family members – their lives had always been closely bonded, like they were really _one_ family, and even more so in their common loss after the war. Annie and Finn with the occasional comment from Johanna told them about their home and you could easily see it before you mind's eye. The children sitting cross-legged on the ground playing clap games. The gentle breeze brushing through the laundry hung up to dry. The grownups drinking coffee on their front step. Four's houses weren't wooden like in Twelve but square shaped, whitewashed stone with patches of vegetables and herb gardens under the windows, separated by rows of seashells. And wherever you went in the district you were never far from the ocean.

Haymitch put his hands in his pockets as he trudged on, leaving his own Victor's Village behind.

Had Effie and the others been down to the market yet? They'd meant to go yesterday and visit Peeta's stall but the dark rain clouds had moved the rest of them indoors while only Haymitch went down to the square to see if the boy needed any help. Peeta and several other merchants always put up street stalls this time of year and would continue to do so every weekend until the Harvest Festival in November.

For some reason Johanna's earlier comment resounded in his head. About scrumping Effie instead of the apples.  
 _  
Witty,_ he thought tiredly.

Back during the Games Johanna, Chaff and Finnick never tired of teasing him about Effie. It took Haymitch years to make Chaff even believe there'd actually never been any "friends with penthouse benefits" going on between him and his pink-haired escort. And once he had convinced him, Chaff just thought he was a moron for not taking the chance. "What a waste," he'd said. "At least your's hot."

Good thing Katniss and Peeta weren't gossipy and that Johanna didn't care enough to ask someone, like Sae; even though the girl sometimes spoke like she knew about a certain New Year's event.

Nothing had ever happened since the Hob and he didn't plan on repeating it. They'd slept in the same bed but even though there'd been mornings when he woke with a hard-on because there was a woman next to him and he wasn't dead he just shifted his body to hide it from Effie or, if it was really bad, took care of it in the shower. He kept his fingers crossed Effie didn't know anything about it and if she did, that she was proud of him for not taking advantage of her when she was vulnerable.

Something had shifted in their relationship these past months, sure. In the Capitol he'd practically told her she was family. But he'd only meant like how Johanna had come to be a part of Annie's and Finn's family. Obviously.

Uninvited, the memory of Effie wrapped around him in that small restroom filled his mind and Haymitch irritably pushed the thought away.

"Mistake," he muttered to a spider crawling up a leaf just as he reached the Meadow and the surrounding woods.

No one remembered when the handful of apple trees were first seeded or if they just grew up on their own but Sae said they'd borne fruit back when she was a girl too.

Scrumping apples back when he was a kid was risky no matter when you did it but really early mornings were still a safer card than evenings and nights when the district swam over with peacekeepers making sure no one was out after the final toll of the bell announcing the curfew.

As long as he lived he'd never forget the morning woods, thick with fog and completely silent except for the buzz from the fence. To his dying day he would remember how the moist air felt against his lips when he hurried his steps, his shoes getting wet with dew and how the rain dropped from the leaves and into his hair when he picked the apples in a sack made out of an old shirt and sprinted back across the Meadow and the Seam on the other side.

Haymitch trudged through the woods, his mind elsewhere. He passed the large oak tree and that was when he saw her.

Afterwards he would think it had taken him several moments to realize it even was Effie. He'd stopped, right in a large fern and stared at the woman under the apple trees.

Effie hadn't spotted him yet. She was humming the new national anthem of Panem to herself, wonderfully off-key. Her hand closed around a fruit that she examined closely before she picked it and put it in a straw basket at her feet. She gave a small exhale and took a moment to tuck her reddish blonde hair behind her ears.

What on Earth had made her skip the head wrap? Finn? Sae? Or was it all her own making? Certainly wasn't his.

But it was the dress, that gray dress, that more than anything else made the hairs on Haymitch's arms stand right up. And not just his hairs…

A smile lit up Effie's face when she finally saw him and she propped the apple basket on her hip as she went over to him.

"I'm glad you came."

Haymitch's mouth was so dry he could hardly swallow, let alone answer. He stared at her dress. It was light gray, covering her chest all the way up to her collarbones and just brushing her kneecaps.

Effie's hand went to her hair, almost shyly, thinking it was the reason for his staring.

"Something new I'm trying," she said. "Mrs. Sae almost didn't recognize me. I still don't know quite how to feel about having it loose, it's been years. But I thought I'd give it a try."

She smiled at him and he only just managed to hold back a moan.

"It's good you are here because I'm not one hundred percent sure how many apples we need. We're surprising Finn and Annie with an apple pie."

The basket was left closer between them and Effie resumed her picking, talking about their visit to the market earlier. Haymitch tried to follow her example but when _he_ grabbed his first apple he broke almost the whole branch down. And then he missed with several meters when he tried throwing the fruit into the basket. He could hardly even bend over to pick it up in his condition.  
 _  
What the hell's wrong with me? She's not even sexy. It's just a plain gray dress._

Too late he realized she saw him gaping at her again for she smiled and waved her hand in a teasing greeting. Sweat tricked down his back and he clenched his jaw, wishing himself miles away.

"You're so flustered today," Effie chuckled, watching his red cheeks. She picked an apple from her tree and walked over to him, the sun and the shadows playing over her hair, her face, her dress.  
 _  
Sweet, dear God…  
_  
"Getting too old to pick apples, Haymitch?" Effie smiled and held up the fruit.  
 _  
She looks like she's lived in Twelve all her life.  
_  
"Want a taste?"

A choked sound came over Haymitch's lips and he closed the space between them.

For a fraction of a second when he heard her intake of breath, he thought he'd be rewarded for his boldness with a big fat slap. Then there was only the soft thud when the apple hit the grass and they were in each other's arms.

And it was the Hob all over again. All that wise thinking for months and months and just five minutes ago, crumbled into dust under their kisses. He pressed her to him, touching her, kissing her, tasting her and she returned it with as much heat, more intoxicating than any bottle.

"Haymitch," she gasped when they sank down onto the ground, Effie first and Haymitch after. With deft flicks of his thumb and forefinger he undid the top buttons of her dress and kissed her breasts where they were exposed. His lips and tongue were warm against her skin and Effie threw her head back, her breasts pressing up at his face. One of her hands went down fumbling with his belt buckle but he was already on that and she wound her arms around his neck and lifted her hips so he could pull down her panties. Their lips met again, sloppily in their eagerness and her dress barely hid the fact that she was naked and wet and opened.

"Haymitch," she gasped and they were so close she could feel the tip of him inside her. "Haymitch, I'm not on anything!" she almost cried out, her voice pained from holding back.

"I'll pull out," Haymitch answered breathlessly and had already slid inside her in one fluid motion.

The wet grass had soaked through the back of Effie's dress and she didn't care. Someone could come through the woods and see them and she didn't care about that either. Her ballet flats slid off her feet, first one and then the other as Haymitch rocked and thrust into her. Her hands clutched around fistfuls of his shirt and she moved her hips upwards when he got down, taking him deeper inside her each time.

"Gotta be quiet, Eff," Haymitch mumbled and clenched his jaw to not lose control over himself.

"Ohh!" Effie groaned and he silenced her with his lips before she'd announce to everyone what they were doing; before her voice that used to annoy the crap out of him would make him come inside her and end this in a disaster.  
 _  
We shouldn't do this. Not here. Not at all.  
_  
But she was too near, too real, too unbelievably soft through that odd, plain dress. Effie's hand came up next to her head and their fingers entwined with such certainty as he kept moving in and out of her.

The tree tops swayed high above their heads but she was higher. The wind brushed through his hair and tickled her when he kissed her throat just where her pulse was and Effie cried out in her pleasure, high and sharp like a bird. A pained sound came over Haymitch's lips and he had just enough sense left to pull out of Effie before he spilled himself all over her inner thigh.

And just like that, it was over.

They lay there on the ground, a tangle of arms and legs in the shadow of the apple trees, hot and sticky and breathless. He only realized he was crushing her with his weight when he felt her squirming and he pulled himself up, steadying himself on one hand. The other was still holding hers and he looked down at Effie, her lips red and swollen from his desire and her eyes – so blue you could drown in them. He released his grip on her hand.  
 _  
Fuck._

Effie sat up when he did. His gaze was drawn to her thigh and the mess he'd caused there. He felt he should offer her something, like a tissue but she'd already gotten out her hankie and dried his stickiness from herself. His cheeks burned so hot she must see it.  
 _  
Fuck.  
_  
"We've got more than enough apples now," he mumbled. Effie's gaze went to the basket and when it returned to him Haymitch was tucking himself back in his pants. "I'll take care of this," he said. "Getting the fruits back and all. I'll join up with you in a while, OK."

His voice wasn't unfriendly, just desperately needing her to be someplace else other than here and Effie, she was suddenly almost overcome with shyness in front of this man she'd known most of her adult life. She got to her feet and awkwardly pulled up her underwear.

"Are you sure?" she said uncertainly. "I can…"

"I'll see you in a while," Haymitch said. He was still on the ground. His gray eyes met her blue ones, if only briefly. "Really Effie, I will."

xXx

Johanna chewed on her grass straw and thrummed her fingers against the kitchen sofa. By coincidence she looked out the open window just when the escort returned from the woods. Empty-handed and with a haste to her steps like she was late for a meeting.

"Hey, Capitol," she said before she could disappear.

Effie heard the greeting, although she wished she hadn't. Reluctantly she let go of Haymitch's door handle and walked up to Johanna's window.

"Yes?"

Johanna's eyebrows raised as she took in the capitolian's appearance. Her flushed face, the crumpled hankie peeking out a dress pocket and her hair which fell not at all as elegantly as it used to.

"It's hot outside," said Effie almost defensively, even though the girl hadn't said a word. Her blush crept down her throat and she made a gesture towards Haymitch's house. "I'm just going to take a quick shower and then I will join you all for dinner."

And she turned around quickly before Johanna could start asking questions.

Effie slipped out of her wet, wrinkled clothes the moment she closed the bathroom door, avoiding her own naked reflection in the cracked mirror.

Johanna. She'd forgotten all about her. If she hadn't, maybe she'd lied better. The girl had not been fooled.  
 _  
Please, please let her keep it to herself.  
_  
A gasp came over Effie's lips when the hot spray ran over her body. Her nipples were sore and tender from when they'd grazed the inside of her dress. She washed the stains of their pleasure from herself and the cleaner she became, the worse the pain in her stomach got.

She'd slept with him. She slept with Haymitch, out in broad daylight for everyone to see!  
How had it even happened? One moment they were picking apples and the next they were on the ground.

What if they hadn't been alone in those woods? She didn't see anyone when she picked apples but what kind of a guarantee was that? All it took was one pair of eyes and it would spread like wildfire.

Tears of shame wanted to break through at the thought. As if the Hob hadn't been bad enough!

Steam filled the room but she could still see her dress through the gash in Haymitch's laundry basket. A dress she knew she'd never wear again.

What did Haymitch think about all this? He'd sent her away so quickly afterwards and yet he had reassured her. She didn't know what kind of madness had made him kiss her; had made her kiss him back. Only how good it had felt. So impossibly good and right, in that moment.  
She could still feel him. That good ache between her legs. She remembered the way his hand had entwined with hers, how she'd clutched on to it when she came.

She hadn't slept with anyone since before the rebellion. After her time in prison it had taken her years to even feel at home in her own body again.

Effie filled her palms with cooler water and let it run down her face, keeping her hands against her hot cheeks but despite her embarrassment and even though she'd never planned for this to happen she knew – after all these years it could never have been with anyone but Haymitch.

xXx

Effie would gladly have stayed in the shower for as long as they had hot water for but she knew she had to face Haymitch sooner or later.

She heard Katniss, Finn and Annie in the other room when she entered the house. Peeta had joined Johanna in the kitchen but there was nothing strange about his smile when he saw her.

The fish gratin simmered in the oven, the kitchen heavy with its scent and Effie busied herself filling a pitcher of water, waiting for Johanna's comment but there was none forthcoming. But even though she should feel grateful for it, the silence was almost worse than if she had started teasing her.

Her hand kept going to her hair, feeling more self-conscious than ever – just when the soft, musical notes of a piano filled the house.

"Oh, not again," Johanna groaned and her head slumped back against the wall but Effie couldn't keep a smile from her lips, despite everything, when Finn began singing in his sweet, clear voice.

Annie's son liked to go on his own expeditions and yesterday during the rain he found his way into the study and discovered the piano.

All the houses in the Victor's Village had one along with things like flutes, cookbooks, painting equipment. All for the sake of their future victors' talents. This piano had never been used but Katniss gave them full access to it and while they waited for Haymitch and Peeta to return Annie tuned it and Finn sang them songs he'd learned in his choir which used to sing at weddings and during the Sea Festival back home.

"All they ever do in Four is sing," Johanna had complained. After the show she bribed Finn into a music free evening with snacks from her bag. But not before Finn had wheedled Katniss into teaching him a song.

Now he sang it again, with almost no mistakes while his mother played. Katniss called it a "mountain air" and it was beautiful in its simplicity. While Effie had never heard it until yesterday the girl said every child in District 12 knew that song.

For a moment Effie stood there completely still, just listening. It was the kind of song that made you want to hold the people you cared about and she could have listened to it forever but the music faded all too soon and then Peeta was there talking about apples and pies, bringing her right back to where she was, her stomach tied into a knot.

"Haymitch promised to bring the apples," she said. "He should be here at any moment."

Johanna who had pushed herself off of the couch after the boy's performance returned with a giggling Finn thrown over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes and Katniss and Annie also joined.

Effie re-arranged the bouquet on the kitchen table; the "autumn flowers" as Finn called them. He'd picked them himself with Effie's help. Large bouquets of grass straws, pretty leaves and late summer blooms, enough to decorate both houses.

Together they cut salad and bread, got out salt and butter, Finn helped putting napkins on all their plates and every time there was a sound from outside Effie's heart leaped in her throat.  
 _  
Where is he? What is he doing?  
_  
She had at least two answers for each question but she refused for either of them to be true. He wouldn't do that.

"Where's mister Heymit?" Finn asked.

"I'll go look for him," said Effie quietly to Peeta who stood closest and with a caress of Finn's head she went to get her coat.

xXx

Haymitch hadn't visited the Hob once in the days that Annie, Finn and Johanna had been in District 12. He'd even cared enough to be discreet with his drinking for Finn's sake. And she'd been so proud of him for it. But now when she pushed inside the Hob, despite everything she'd told herself, she knew, had known all along, that it was here she would find him in the end.

As she made way towards Haymitch at the bar she recognized Thom and Bristel and a handful of other Seam people around the tables but if they knew about any inappropriate actions they were hiding it well.

"Good afternoon," Effie nodded towards Greasy Sae and Ripper when she joined up at Haymitch's side. The ice in his whiskey clinked when he raised the glass to his lips and she could see that he was drunk. He hadn't looked up when she walked in, didn't acknowledge her in any way.

"We are missing you at dinner," Effie said quietly.

She couldn't see his eyes properly. They were hidden by the tangles of unwashed hair that dangled over his temples.

"Katniss went all the way down to the lake to get the fish. It smells wonderful."

Haymitch took another sip of his drink and didn't answer. Effie looked around, very aware of all listening ears.

"Can we talk somewhere?" she asked. "Someplace private?"

When there was still no answer Effie felt a twinge of irritation.

"Why did you leave the apples on the front step?" she asked. "The basket had fallen over and all the fruits were on the ground."

Haymitch finally put his glass down but when he opened his mouth only one word came out. She'd heard him utter that word many times before, at the Games Headquarters, the banquets, the Penthouse to make her leave him alone with his drinks. But hearing him say it now, in a cold voice that didn't even sound like his, it hit her squarely in the heart, worse than his knife ever could.

"Go."

She didn't want to believe it at first but in the silence that followed he only repeated his word.

"Haymitch…" she said and his eyes met hers for the first time. His face was filled with hard edges in the light from the dripping wax candles when he looked at her and down her pink dress.

"I see the Capitol's back on."

And then he only had eyes for his whiskey. Effie watched him swallow the amber liquid. She didn't as much as blink. She only gave a slight nod, like his statement was all she needed to know.

"What was that, Haymitch?" she heard Mrs. Sae ask when she turned to leave.

"None of your business," Haymitch muttered back and the door closed between them.

xXx

"It's alright, Effie. You don't have to stay. I've got him."

Myriads of stars twinkled above them and Haymitch's head bounced heavily on his neck, propped up as he was between Effie and Peeta. Clouds of dust disrupted around his feet when he stumbled ahead and only sometimes did he seem to realize where he was. Then he resisted and they had to drag him along while Haymitch mumbled, "I'm not fucking going home."

Peeta's forehead was covered in sweat as he carried his mentor. During the Games, when Haymitch was drunk and vulnerable and needed someone to take the reins, even when Chaff or Finnick were at hand, it was always Effie he wanted. But now the old mentor leaned almost all of his weight on Peeta. Effie tried to help the boy and put Haymitch's arm back around her shoulders but Haymitch grunted and pulled away.

"I'm not fucking going home."

"I'm so so sorry, Peeta."

"It's OK," said Peeta with a faint smile, slightly out of breath. "I'm used to it."

"Sick," Haymitch got out and they had just enough time to maneuver him across the road before he vomited violently into the ditch.

Somehow they managed to get him inside and up the stairs and Haymitch collapsed stomach-first on the bed. With his face in a pillow he mumbled something unintelligible while Effie untied his boots. Together they rolled him onto his back and Peeta went to get bucket.

"I shouldn't," Haymitch mumbled and caught Effie's hands in an iron grip when she tried to unbutton his shirt. "Shouldn't, Eff… We should've known... I should've known..."

"I believe you, Haymitch," Effie said and gently prised off his fingers so she could undo the rest of the buttons, getting him out his shirt and trousers.

"Get some sleep, Peeta dear," she said when the boy appeared with the bucket. "I'll look after him."

Haymitch groaned and when Effie looked at him he lay in the fetal position on the bed, clutching his stomach.

"Do you need to vomit again?"

Haymitch pressed one hand over his ear and rolled over, away from her. Effie took the bucket from Peeta, telling him to go and get some rest.

Finally he did.

Haymitch moaned and whimpered, arms clutched around himself. Effie sat by his side, holding the bucket. She wanted to smooth back his hair that clung to him with sweat but thought better of it.

It was going to be a long night.

xXx

Like every morning little Finn woke before everyone else. If you didn't count Auntie Jo but Auntie Jo didn't count since she was never asleep.

He climbed out of bed and his mother only mumbled something before she rolled over on the other side.

He listened for the sound that had woken him. It was not Auntie Jo going about in the next room but something else. He got out into the corridor, dressed in his blue and white striped pajamas and just then he heard it, a low whiny sound down the stairs.

It was Buttercup. Unaware of her terrible crime, Johanna had gone and closed his window and now the cat paced back and forth across the door mat, scratching his claws against the wood with affronted meows. He pierced Finn with a yellow stare when the boy came down the stairs.

"Hi, kitty cat." Finn patted his head and Buttercup let him, for as long as it took the child to open the door. Then he was off and away like a fluffy, orange duster.

Everyone in the Victor's Village knew Finn was an early riser and the front door was supposed to be locked. But after everything with Haymitch Peeta must have forgotten it and now Finn stepped out into the cool morning air. He went to the goose pen first only to discover in disappointment that he couldn't move the wooden door latch. But in the big house lived mister Heymit and Ms Effie and with some difficulty he pushed the door opened and stepped inside.

Here he'd never been before. Finn looked curiously around as he walked through the house. He brushed his fingers against the yellowish wall paper that was so loose in some places you could rip it off and use it as drawing-paper. When he got inside the living room his foot accidently nudged a bottle and Finn watched it roll.

Until it bumped up against a large naked foot.

Upstairs in Haymitch's room all the windows were opened wide in an attempt to air out the smell of vomit. Curled up on the couch under a knotty old blanket, lay Effie. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was ruffled. She hadn't gotten many hours of sleep so when Haymitch woke up and found his way downstairs she never heard it. She never heard Finn open the front door either or even his words a moment later.

But she did hear the wailing. She was so startled awake when the cries cut through silence she bumped into Haymitch's bookshelf when she sprung up from the couch. The boy's cries grew louder and Effie stumbled down the stairs and through the rooms.

"Finn?"

"Mama!"

And she found Haymitch. Sprawled out on the living room floor, naked except for a pair of wet underpants and lying with his cheek in a sticky pool of vomit. Finn wailed and he shook Haymitch's hairy leg, trying to rouse him. The sound of the boy's crying made Haymitch stir, trying to reach him but Effie was there in a moment and picked Finn up.

"It's Ok, it's OK," she said, carrying him away from the scene.

"What's going on?" a voice rung out and Effie saw Johanna with Annie in the doorway.

"Mama!" Finn sobbed and reached out his arms to her. "Heymit's sick."

"Helpme," Haymitch's voice came back to them. "Please, helpme."

"Should we get someone?" asked Annie worriedly, with Finn clinging to her.

"No, no, it's fine, he'll be fine," said Effie. "Please, just take Finn with you. Everything will be fine."

She hurried back into the living room where Haymitch tried to get up, vomit dripping down half his face. Effie got to him just in time to catch him before he fell. Pain shot up her back but she kept him upright. He reeked with alcohol and vomit and urine and she put his arm around her shoulders getting smeared down with vomit when she half-lead, half-carried him to the bathroom and into the tub.

xXx

The sun sat low on the sky, hot and golden, when Haymitch finally came to. Automatically his hand clawed around under the bed to get out the bottle of clear liquid he kept there and he had taken several gulps before he was even fully awake. With a groan Haymitch got himself up to sitting. He rubbed his hand over his chest, just wondering why he wore pajamas when he saw he wasn't alone in the room.

"Shouldn't you be out with Finn and the others?" he muttered.

Effie looked back at him from the couch, pale and unsmiling.

"I could ask you the same question," she said and by the look on her face she wasn't going be a hand holder today. "They're your guests."

"No, it was all your idea."

He tipped his bottle upwards and grunted in disappointment when he swallowed the last drops.

"Your behavior these past few days has been completely unacceptable," said Effie. "I thought I'd tell you I case you don't remember."

"Course you do. You never waste a moment to tell me what a fuck up I am. Why're you still here? Shouldn't you be on a train? By all means, don't let me stop ya."

"You're a grown man, Haymitch!" Effie snapped and got to her feet. "If this _appalling_ behavior is because of what happened I'd rather you…"

Haymitch laughed.

"Yeah, _everything's_ about you, princess. And you don't start that again! Not after I took you in! You should be fucking grateful. Not everyone would have."

"I am grateful," said Effie and in a softer tone now. "You know I am. I just don't understand..."

"What else is new?" muttered Haymitch. "Wouldn't be surprised if all that cotton candy has started growing into your brain as well."

"What's the matter with you?" Effie burst out and the pain filled her eyes with tears. "Finn found you on the floor this morning! He was in here sobbing, trying to rouse you. How could you do that to him?"

The revelation struck him hard and it made his voice sharper than razor blades.

"He had no business going here in the first place. Maybe Annie should take better care of her own kid."

"He's a child, Haymitch! Sometimes children go where they aren't supposed to go. The least you can do is follow me back and apologize. You owe them that."

Something flashed in Haymitch's eyes and his face turned crimson.

"You don't go telling me which people I owe! Get the hell out of my house!"

"Not until you talk to me!" Effie cried but his hand had already clutched around her arm and he was pushing her before him and to the door.  
 _  
"Out!_ "

"Let go of me!" Effie shouted and he pushed her off of him. A vase smashed against the floor, sending the "autumn flowers" flying when Effie tried to break her fall and she hit the back of her head hard against the wall.

Haymitch stared in horror at what he'd just done. His hand reached out to her if only an inch but then he just backed away. Away from Effie. Away from it all.

xXx

Johanna's rucksack with the minimal amount of things she'd brought with her lay thrown by her feet on the couch and upstairs Annie and Finn were packing. You could hear their voices through the ceiling, talking with Katniss and Peeta.

Effie sat in the armchair. Her fingers ran absentmindedly over the back of her head. The impact with the wall had made it sound worse than it was and it didn't hurt anymore.

Not her head, anyway.

Haymitch's house was dark and silent. No one had seen him for hours, not since their fight and Effie hated herself for expecting more of him. Hated herself for thinking their encounter had meant something.

She stared blankly at the empty basket by the fireplace. She couldn't believe the man who had kissed her under the apple trees was the same one she'd met at the Hob. That those gray eyes which managed to calm her down when nothing else did, could look at her like he truly hated her.  
 _  
It should have happened during the Games instead,_ she thought. At least then she'd have known what it was and why it was. She would have moved on.

Her bags still weren't packed. Tomorrow was a public holiday but if she stayed here much longer she would end up late for work. But while she couldn't bear the thought of seeing him again she couldn't bear the thought of leaving like this either.

She was stuck.

"You should go home, Trinket."

It took a moment for her to realize it was Johanna who had spoken. She thought the girl had been asleep but she looked straight at her, as if she'd heard her every thought. _'Trinket?' That's an improvement over 'Capitol' at least,_ she thought tiredly.

"Should I?" The words sounded as empty as she felt.

"It's just as well," Johanna said and there wasn't even any venom behind the words.

Effie met the girl's brown wide set eyes, wondering how much she knew. Maybe all of it. That wouldn't be surprising. Peeta always used to say how alike Katniss and Haymitch were and while that was true Effie never stopped to marvel over how alike Haymitch and Johanna were. They'd shared a mutual respect for each other and an odd sort of friendship ever since the Games, like a brother to a younger sister, when they'd been part of the same group along with Chaff and Finnick. Of course Effie had only watched from the outside but even if Johanna acted out and he was acting in, the word "kindred" came to mind and the girl often reminded her of a younger Haymitch.

"Even if you think you know what he's going through, you don't," Johanna continued. "Like Plutarch and Fulvia going on about how they "know exactly how you feel!' You don't. None of you know what's going on inside a victor's head."

Well, what did you answer to that? There were no answers to give. She didn't know what he was going through. She couldn't even begin to understand and she never would because he'd never let her.

"Trust me," said Johanna. "It'll be better for all of you if you just step back."

 **Author's note: Sorry about the long wait. I hope you liked the chapter.  
Also, I had to go back and delete Haymitch's birthday being during the Games because I realized I'd gotten the month of the Games wrong. Of course we can only guess the precise time but a calculated guess is it's in June and the Victory Tour and the Harvest Festival in November.**


	9. Chapter 9, part one

Chapter 9  
A rain of tears

Part one

 _"It's so fucking cold here we should ask for a raise."_

 _Clydas sucked greedily on his cigarette. What was left of it. He blew out some smoke and looked at the ramshackle houses around them._

 _"Place is dead. Nothing ever happens."_

 _They were supposed to patrol but the icy night air kept them by the burn barrel. The helmets lay tossed at their feet and the fire danced over their young faces._

 _"We should have us a girl," Titan grinned, revealing his two front teeth that overlapped. His parents had named him Titan but he didn't live up to it. He was scrawny, rat like with a head that seemed undersized, poking up from the peacekeeper's uniform. "That'd be nice wouldn't it? A girl. Hehe, we could have us two girls! So we wouldn't have to wait in line!"_

 _"Yeah, keep dreamin'."_

 _"What? Cray does it. I've seen them coming to his door!"_

 _"Cray's second in command! Shit, you really wanna dip your wick and see what you catch?" He stamped his boots against the ground to try and get some life back in to his toes._

 _Titan rubbed his nose surly._

 _"Well, sorry I like it better when girls keep it warm for me," he said, even though Clydas knew and everyone in their squad knew the only thing keeping Titan's genitals warm was his own right hand. "I have to pee," he muttered._

 _Clydas flung the butt of his cigarette into the flames while Titan left the fire for the backside of a nearby house._

 _The iron maiden and all her peacekeepers got to feast on whole roasted pigs and goats and wild boars with dark ale to wash it down with. And here they were, freezing their nuts off. Who knew when this stupid district would win again? If ever. By Spring they'd be back to the same old food packages shipped in from District 10 and 11, weighed and counted to the last grain of rice._

 _You'd think the Capitol would be more generous to the ones who protected their country._

 _"Pointless," he muttered. "Pointless."_

 _A cry pierced the stillness and it was so sharp and unexpected Clydas jumped._

 _"What the hell?"_

 _"No! No!"_

 _He fumbled to get his flashlight out, both alarmed and eager that something finally happened._

 _"Hello?" He aimed the torch beam in the direction of the sound. "Anybody there?"_

 _"Clydas!" He whipped around just in time to see Titan stumble back into the light. "I got one, Clydas! I got one!" The ends of his belt clinked and dangled as he dragged with him a dark-haired woman. "She's out after the bell, Clydas! It'd be her own fault, right? We can do what we want with her!"_

 _"You're insane." Clydas couldn't help but grin. "We have to report her."_

 _"Oh, come on!"_

 _Clydas crossed his arms over his chest, taking a proper look at the girl. There was something familiar about her but he couldn't remember where he'd seen her before. Probably a reaping. How old could she be? 18? Her lip were busted, red and swollen._

 _"Someone's already been at her, it looks to me," he said. "Someone punched you, little darling?"_

 _"Didn't you hear the bell?" Titan shook her and her pony tail down her back flipped back and forth. She stared at nothing, her face a mask. Just stood there and let it happen. The two boys grinned at each other._

 _Had they been smarter maybe they'd noticed that behind it there was something else, smoldering._

 _"If you gotta have one you could at least have picked someone pretty," Clydas said. "This one's all bones. Go hair like a horse tail."_

 _"She's warm," Titan cackled. Still gloveless on one hand from earlier he dug his dirty fingernails into her cheeks. "Let's have a feel, eh?"_

 _Faster than a fox trap snapping shut, the girl jammed her teeth into his hand._

 _Titan howled, jumping up and down. The girl dashed for freedom. Clydas caught her in the flight and almost snapped her skinny arms off when he locked them behind her back._

 _"She bit me! She bit me!"_

 _"What's all this noise?"_

 _They turned as another peacekeeper appeared. The visor on his helmet was pulled back, a pair off well-known mud-brown eyes looking between the two of them._

 _"She tried to get away, Peacekeeper Cray sir," Clydas said, his mouth agape. "We caught her, sir."_

 _"She bit me!"_

 _Blood had colored the ground at Titan's feet. In a heartbeat Cray's baton was in his hand and at her face._

 _"You try something like that again, girl and you'll end up with no teeth left", he said. "Who are you? What's your name?"_

 _The girl didn't say a word. The only sound to be heard what the crackling fire and Titan's sobs. He cradled his hand and snot dripped from his nose. Cray gave him a look of utter disgust. He tore the hand cuffs from Titan's belt._

 _"Quit the weeping!" he said and shoved them into his hands. "Do something right for a change and throw her in one of the hunger cells."_

 _Neither Titan nor Clydas lay another hand on the girl. All they wanted was to be rid of her. That was clear to anyone peering through the shutters when they took Helena away._

 _Of course Titan and Clydas didn't know that was her name. They wouldn't know for many years._

 _Without a word they brought her to the Justice building. The monstrous structure which towered higher than any other. The frozen ground crunched under their boots as they pulled her to the door on the backside. Clydas had to put his heels in to make it open on creaking and wailing hinges. Inside was only darkness. Like looking into a passage to hell._

 _Clydas turned on a switch, revealing the steps that took you to the dungeons. The further down they went, the colder it got. Broken spider webs hung from the one working bulb by the bottom of the steps, illuminating the rows of cells._

 _Helena stumbled over a metal grate when they pushed her inside. The cell was completely bare. No bed, no toilet, not even a window. Clydas locked, uncuffed her through the iron bars and Titan slammed his baton against the metal, cursing at her now that he was safely on the other side._

 _"Lets go," Clydas muttered and they disappeared up the steps. They switched off the light with a bang, leaving her in a cold, complete, paralyzing darkness._

 _Her teeth clattered. She lowered herself onto the ground, using her hands as guidance. She felt the metal grate and scooted away from it. She waited for her eyes to adjust. To make out forms and shapes. There was nothing. With slow movements she tied her loosened hair back in its usual ponytail and clasped her arms around her knees._

Did they get away? Did they get home safely?

 _Not ten minutes passed before someone turned the key again and the dungeons bathed in light. She knew who it was before she saw him._

 _Peacekeeper Cray had taken off his helmet. The naked lightbulb flickered over his features when he came down to her. He was in his mid-thirties but his hairline was already receding. With a completely round face, ruddy cheeks and constantly wet lips he looked like a large overgrown baby._

 _"Be glad it's me, girl," he said. "If the Head Peacekeeper knew you bit the idiot she'd have you whipped in the square. Or put you in the iron maiden. You know she enjoys that."_

 _He wet his already wet lips and rested his gloved hand against the iron bars, tapping something against it._

 _"It's cold down here even in mid-summer", he said. "We don't get to use these cells often enough. Sometimes we forget we have someone down here. Until a few weeks later when we have to collect the body. What the rats left behind anyway."_

 _He clanked his fingers against the metal once more. Helena realized it was a coin._

 _"You don't have to be here," he said. "I'm generous, girl. Just say the words and I'll let you out. I could use someone to warm my bed tonight."_

 _Helena looked away, her face like cut in stone._

 _"Or maybe," he said, "I'll just come in and take one for free."_

 _He paused, as if to let the reality of his threat sink in. Then his lips curved into a smile._

 _"But why all the trouble?" He put the coin back in his pocket. "You stay here and enjoy yourself. I've got plenty of takers."_

 _Helena stared up at him, right into his mud-brown eyes and all at once it wasn't Cray she saw._

 _It was Sophie._

"Can you hear them, Helena?" _her voice whispered in her memory._ "Do you hear them? Do you hear the stars?"

 _"If you change your mind, you know where I live," Cray said. "If you get out."_

Rot in hell.

 _She wished it so badly it was strange he didn't hear her. Cray disappeared and darkness consumed her once more._

Rot in hell.

 _xXx_

 _The 12 hour shift was finally over. Dom relished those first breaths of clear night air when he and all the other coal miners walked out the big doors._

 _Glenn was by his side like he had for the past four years. Ever since they turned 18 they'd walked these black cinder streets together. They were all like a trail of black ghosts and light spilled out on the snow covered ground around the Seam as people dissapeared inside to their waiting families or their waiting beds._

 _On a normal day they'd talk but tonight Dom's thoughts were elsewhere._

 _"See ya tomorrow," Glenn said once they'd reached his house._

 _Dom was exhausted. He barely even manage a nod goodnight to his old friend and his wife when she appeared in the doorway._

 _"Dom," she said, before he'd go on. "Helena's back."_

 _When they got news of Helena's imprisonment he'd wanted to go talk with the Head Peacekeeper and Cray and the others and he wasn't the only one. But Harold said no. There was nothing they could do but wait and see. If they tried anything it would only make it worse for her._

 _The lights were on in Helena's house, he saw from afar but he'd come almost all the way up to her door before he heard voices._

 _"It's none of our business," Harold said. "You should never have gone up there!"_

 _Helena answered back. Words he couldn't make out._

 _"Because it's already too late!" her father said. "You'll stay away from them, Helena!"_

 _"Pa, please just…" but she cut herself off mid-sentence when she saw Dom through the window. Harold gave him a hard stare and disappeared out of sight. The next moment she appeared at the door._

 _"Hey," he said.  
_  
 _"Hi."_

 _She kept her hand on the handle to keep the wind from slamming the door shut. And, maybe, to keep him outside._

 _"I just wanted to see how you were," Dom said. "Ask if there's anything I can do."_

 _"I can't really talk right now," Helena said. He watched her bruised lip with concern. "Please, just... just go."_

 _"Will I see you on Sunday?"_

 _"I don't know. Please, Dom."_

 _She tried to close the door and he took a step back._

 _"I'm sorry, Helena," he said. "I'm so sorry."_

 _Two days passed. The snow began to stick, for the first time that year. In less than a week it would have buried the whole district._

 _The wind rattled the trees around the Meadow. It had been their favourite meeting place ever since he started courting her. Somewhere where they could be alone._

 _Of course, he didn't know if she'd come at all today but he didn't mind waiting if it meant he could see her again, if only for a moment._

 _He crossed his arms over his chest, warming his hands in his armpits. He was a large man. Broad-shouldered. With his sharp jawline and swelling arms he could have come off scary or intimidating if it wasn't for his eyes. They betrayed his gentle soul._

 _"You sure you weren't switched at birth?" Glenn often joked about his light hair and his eyes that were more bluer than they were gray, "Handsome bastard."_

 _"My grandma was merchant, bright head," Dom answered back and they both laughed._

 _An hour passed. A light snow began to fall and he'd just accepted that she wouldn't come, when he saw her._

 _Helena always looked like an old person when she walked. A hard life had lined her face even though she was still young. Thin and bird-like she came towards him, wrapped in her old, gray shawl. Her dark hair and olive skin stood out against all the white._

 _She didn't believe him when he said she was beautiful so he didn't say it but it didn't make it any less true. They sat back against their old, frozen log. He pulled off his jacket. It was so threadbare it didn't make much difference but he put it around her shoulders. He saw she had a package with her, wrapped in used brown paper._

 _"This is for you," she said. "I finished them last night."_

 _It was the pair of mittens she'd once promised him. They perfectly matched his eyes. Dom smiled and put them on. Thick and warm and functional. Like those mittens she sold on market days along with socks and underclothes and other garments. That's where he first started to really notice her. When she wouldn't cave to the will of a peacekeeper when he tried to beat down the price of a pair of fur lined long underwear pants._

 _"Thank you," he said. And that's when he saw there was something else in her hands._

 _His mother's old wedding band. The ring he gave her when he proposed._

 _He looked up at her._

 _"Did Harold…," he began. The old man had given them his blessing but if he'd changed his mind this could very well be the last he ever saw of her. Her father's opinion meant a great deal to her._

 _But Helena shook her head. She looked so tired and down-hearted._

 _"I care about you, Dom. More than you know, even if maybe it doesn't always seem like it, but…"_

 _"Is it because of Sophie?"_

 _Like everybody else in Twelve he'd heard rumors of that night._

 _Her silence was enough for him to know he was right._

 _"What if we have children," she said. "What if it's your son or daughter's name they'll call out at the reaping?"_

 _"It won't be," said Dom with a heat behind it that she seldom heard in his voice. "I won't allow it. Not if I'll so have to work myself to death in the mines."_

 _Helena didn't respond. She was no fool and neither was he. They both knew that at the end of the day it was out of their control._

 _Dom hesitated and then he said,_

 _"We don't have to have any. If that's what you want. It could be just us. I know I don't have much to offer. But I would love you. I'd never do anything to hurt you. We_ _could build a home together."_

 _xXx_

 _And they were married. On the first warm Spring day they all gathered at Helena's for a quiet dinner before they walked across the Seam to Dom's house where she would now live, as Mrs. Abernathy._

 _Pa placed a scratchy kiss on her cheek. The first time he'd ever done so._

 _He was a short man, Harold, especially next to his daughter. Thin as a hung up suit with white hair and wearing the same clothes Helena's mother had once made for their wedding day._

He'll be all alone now.

 _The thought pinched her heart. He'd still live in their old house where she grew up but she wouldn't be there anymore to take care of him._

 _"You're a good girl", he muttered. "You'll do fine."_

 _"Thank you, pa," Helena mumbled. She took her husband's hand and as the others sang District 12's wedding song she stepped over the threshold to her new home._

 _Dom had promised he'd never hurt her but it hurt when he put it in her. She knew what men looked like between their legs but this was something different. And when she watched it, in tangles of dark curly hair, she couldn't see how it would even fit inside her._

 _It hurt. But pain wasn't something Helena was unfamiliar with and there was something else there too. A tenderness she did not expect. Dom was all muscles. He was lean and hard and golden in the light from their first fire. He looked like he could crush you like a bug but his kisses were soft and tender._

 _"I wish I could stay here with you," he said the following morning when he had to be back in the mine, newly-wed or not._

 _Glenn and some other crew mates already waited outside. Dom pulled on his mittens and kissed her._

 _"I'll see you tonight," he said before he left. She heard their voices disappear down the path. Against her will she pictured Dom, packed tightly together with the other coal miners as the elevator creaked deeper and deeper into the earth. And they wouldn't be released from the mine until their daily coal quota had been achieved._

 _"The Abernathys are made out of strong stuff," he father used to say. People loved to share tales about them. They were poor but everyone respected them. And they'd mined coal for generations._

 _"Only thing I know I'm good at," Dom said. He always joked about his job. Perhaps he had to, to be able to stand going there every day. "I couldn't sew in a button to save my life."_

 _Ma had been an amazing seamstress. When other children Helena's age were out playing on the Meadow or by the school Violet taught her young daughter how to sew. It wasn't always easy for a small child but if she whined her mother always said the same thing,_

 _"You'll learn it now, so you never have to work in the ground."_

 _She'd always be grateful to her for that._

 _Most of her mother's clients had been merchants, people who could afford textiles and have their clothes sewn from scratch, and after she died Helena inherited some of those families when she got older._

 _People in the Seam had to make do with what they had. When your children outgrew their clothes it was handed over to a younger sibling. Kids running around in their father's old shirts were a more common sight than not. If something broke you mended it but still, when the need for new garments was unavoidable Helena was mostly the one they went to._

 _Dom's house,_ "Our house," _she had to remind herself, didn't look much different from the one where she's lived all her days. Especially now when ma's old loom stood in the corner. It was the same creaking floors. The same thin walls where cold air seeped in through the cracks.  
_  
 _The wooden sofa bed that pa had made them for a wedding gift had also been carried into the kitchen along with the rest of her few possessions. In the weeks that followed she made rag rugs with the help of ma's loom. She scrubbed the floors, cleaned the windows, washed the cabinets until they shone. She washed some old pots and when summer came she grew new potted plants with the flowers Dom dug up for her._  
 _  
When he got home in the evening after those endless shifts, black with coal dust, Helena washed the long hoursfrom him, relaxed the aching muscles in his body. His lips tasted of soot when they kissed._

 _They grew closer together and within their four walls existed peace and happiness. As much peace and happiness you could find in a place like Twelve._

 _When her period was late she thought nothing of it. Not at first. She'd accepted the risk when she married Dom but her period had always been irregular. Secretly, when the first year came to a close, she'd thought, hoped maybe, that she wasn't able to have children._

 _Dom wanted the baby. Even though he shared the same fears and worries a she did, as every parent in the districts did, he wanted a family. Had probably always wanted one. So when he gathered her close in bed and touched her belly she didn't pull away._

 _But long after he'd fallen asleep Helena lay awake, wondering if she'd even make a good mother at all. A_ _nd when she closed her eyes all she saw was Sophie. Her small form under all the blankets. Her eyes like black pools as she fought the sleep syrup. And how she'd gasped, like a fish out of water._

"Don't let them take me, nana. Don't let the bad men take me!"

 _Sophie, who died anyway.  
_  
 _When her water broke Dom wasn't home. And even if he'd known there was no way for him to get to her before his shift ended._

 _She thought the pain would kill her. That it'd rip her open and it would be the end of it. Old Mrs. Hawthorne later told her she could hear her, on her way into town._

 _Sae was with her. She always came when any of the women in the Seam gave birth. She saw her through the hours and when the sun set she pulled the baby from her body._

 _Someone must have told Dom what was going on. He barged into the house just as Sae wrapped the baby in a blanket. Out of breath from running half across the district and with eyes so white in his black face he stood next to Helena when Sae placed the little boy in her arms._

 _It was the first time Helena saw him cry._

 _It was strange. This new little person in their lives. So small and wilful with pink, round cheeks and tiny hands that would tear out a fistful of your hair if you didn't watch out. He was always hungry and he kicked and screamed angrily if he didn't immediately get what he wanted. When she put him to her chest he latched on with such intensity you'd think he was afraid someone would take it away from him._

 _But after a while he always came to a rest and looked up at Helena with his round, gray eyes, at peace with his world. Yes, they were Seam gray but in every other respect he looked just like Dom. He had his nose, his chin, the same smile, the same disarray of dirty blonde hair._

 _They named him Haymitch._

 _ **to be continued…**_

 **Author's note: I know Taste of Strawberries hasn't been updated in a crazy long time. Sorry about that. I've had a crippling writer's block. This chapter has by far been the hardest for me. I chose to split it in parts both because it's so damn long and so you'll know that the story isn't abandoned even if it may have seemed like it.**

 **The wait for part two won't be as long.**


	10. Chapter 9, part two

Chapter 9  
A rain of tears

Part two **  
**  
 _The steady sound of the sewing machine filled the kitchen. Soup cooked gently on the stove and it was one of those rare peaceful moments in the Abernathy household. Helena steered the textile under the needle and her large stomach pressed out her own dress as she worked._

 _A content little humming came from under the table behind her. The fresh table cloth reached almost all the way down to the floor and the fabric flickered when a child's foot poked out before it quickly drew back in again._

 _Helena lifted her gaze when a shadow moved outside the window and she saw her husband as he bent over the rain barrel. He did so every day when he got home from work, ever since Haymitch was born. Washed off the worst, put on some fresh clothes so he could spend more time with his son._

 _"Where's my boy?" Dom asked the moment he opened the door and Haymitch scrambled out so fast he nearly pulled with him his mother's neatly set table._

 _"Here!" Haymitch shrieked and threw himself into his father's embrace. They laughed like maniacs, both of them as Dom swung him around in his arms. Helena didn't even turn her head. Almost five years had gotten her used to her two boys and the racket they were making._

 _"Again!" Haymitch shouted and Dom swung him around over and over until his own chuckles deteriorated into a fit of coughing. He put Haymitch down and the boy tumbled over, dizzy and giggling. Dom pressed his hankie against his mouth trying to stifle the coughs. Haymitch pulled himself up, grinning and tugging at his father's shirt tail._

 _"Again!"_

 _Dom waved him off good-naturedly._

 _"'nother time, kid. Pull me… pull me a chair, will you, Haymitch?"_

 _He did so and Dom slumped down on it, panting and wheezing. But he wiped his mouth with the hankie and smiled at Haymitch when the boy crawled up on his lap. Dom ruffled his hair and Haymitch had already begun searching through his pockets._

 _This was a common game in the Abernathy household and it didn't take Haymitch long to find what he was looking for._

 _"That's for you," Dom said. Haymitch held the round smooth gray stone on his palm. It glittered in the afternoon light. He stroked it against his cheek._

 _They were his most beloved treasures. His father had given him one every other day since he turned three. At night Haymitch kept them in a box by the kitchen sofa since his mother didn't want him to have them with him in bed._

 _It was grandpa Harold who built it. Each night pa lifted the wooden seat off the kitchen sofa revealing the soft beddings underneath. Before they tucked him in and turned the lights off, both he and ma sat with him for a while. Haymitch would then hold on to his father's large hand and talk nonstop. About what they would do on Sunday, about his little brother or sister. And school. Most of all school._

 _It was still a few months to go. Helena wanted to make him something new for his first day. Something else than his usual clothes made from Dom's hand-me-downs. A new shirt, a pair of trousers. Haymitch would get to choose the colors._

 _If they could save up enough money until then._

 _Haymitch always woke before anyone else in the family. But one sunny summer morning when breakfast was already on the table Haymitch burrowed down into his pillow and didn't want to get up. And it didn't take Helena long to find the first pox on his skin._

 _Dom moved out into the kitchen and their son was installed in their bed. The two of them had already had chicken pox but Haymitch had no fun days to come. Red spots covered him from head to toe and he whimpered and cried and kicked around the bed sheets when his mother wouldn't let him scratch. Greasy Sae came with a salve from the apothecary and Haymitch spend most of his days sticky and miserable, clutching his mother, disgruntled that her large stomach was so much in the way._

 _Seven days in though, the spots had scabbed over and Haymitch was almost back to normal. A little subdued maybe. By then Helena badly needed to make a visit to the Thornleys in town. The best would have been to leave Haymitch on the bed contentedly and with a book but with Sae not home and with no one else to look after him there was nothing else to do but get the boy dressed and bring him._

 _The market day was in full swing. Haymitch's pants pockets clinked with each step he took, filled as they were with some of his favorite rocks._

 _He hummed to himself and swung his free hand that wasn't holding ma's but when they reached the Thornley's door and he realized where they were going he resisted, just like Helena knew he would._

 _"Not dagon lady!"_

 _"Don't call her that, Haymitch. She's not a dragon lady. And it won't take long." But Haymitch put his heels in and shook his head, as stubbornly as only Haymitch could be._

 _"No, no, no!"_

 _Helena swallowed a sigh._

 _"Alright," she said. Market stalls had been put up all around the square and in the middle a group of children played, jumping rope and playing clap games. "Then you'll stay here with the other children where I can see you."_

 _"Mm," said Haymitch and Helena let him loose, crossing her fingers he'd behave._

 _"I expected you here three days ago," Ruth said when she opened the door. Her daughter peered out from behind her. They were very alike Gertie and her mother. Same brown hair, same snubbed noses and pale skin. Gertie eyed the sewing basket suspiciously. She hated it when Helena arrived since the clothes she made were usually for her. Sometimes she had fits of rage, throwing herself on the floor kicking and screaming and boxing herself with her fits._

 _"Haymitch had the chicken pox," Helena said. "He's not contagious," she added but the woman had already ushered her daughter inside._

 _"I shouldn't have to wait," Ruth said. "Just because the Seam are spreading around diseases I shouldn't have to…"_

 _Helena listened with very measured features. It was always the same. A rant always followed when she knocked on Thornley's door, about one thing or the other. "I'm so sick of those brats from the Seam!" was her favorite subject. That Helena might take offence didn't even seem to have crossed her mind._

 _But she was the only regular customer Helena could count on besides the Undersee's. And afterwards she could be almost mild. Helena got a feeling Ruth needed someone to talk to, even if it was just to pour out all of her bitterness. She was divorced. And to be devorced was all but unheard of in Twelve. Maybe that's why she was so angry all the time._

 _They kept to themselves, Ruth and Gertie, but she seemed to like the baker and his wife, or at least approve of them because Helena saw them often at the bakery Not surprising really. Kinder people than the Mellark's were hard to find. And their goods was first class._

 _Gertie always stood by the door then, in her new dress, nibbling on the tip of her thumb, not quite sucking on it and when Mrs. Mellark saw it she always told her son to go and say hi to her._

 _Graham was just two years older than Haymitch but he'd always been big for his age. He never talked much but he was a kind soul, just like his parents. He went over to Gertie when his mother told him to. And then the two of them stood there, next to each other, until Ruth were done with her purchases._

 _They agreed on a new time and bid each other good morning. Helena shifted her weight to her other foot, rubbing her hand against her back. But she hadn't more than turned from Ruth's house when she heard a loud shriek. A shriek she recognized. On the ground in a cloud of dust, Haymitch rolled around with one of the other children. Both he and the girl screamed and fought for dominance and hit each other everywhere they could. The other children frightened and alarmed stood around them and one girl cried with her hand pressed to her face._

 _Just when Helena and another running woman reach their children the girl with flying blonde hair pressed Haymitch into the dirt. She sat on him and both of them hit their fists on the other wherever they could._

 _"Maysilee!" Mrs Donner pulled the girl up just when Helena pulled her son up. They still tried to kick each other and she kept him away from Maysilee. They were covered in dirt and grazes. And the other girl, the sister, cried more than ever._

 _"What is this, Haymitch!?"_

 _"She took my rock!" Haymitch yelled and angry tears ran down his pox covered face._

 _"I didn't!" Maysilee pushed her long blonde hair from her eyes and mouth furiously, her face all red. "I just looked at it!"_

 _"Mine! Mine!" Haymitch stomped his foot on the ground. "Stoopid!"_

 _"Haymitch, that's enough of that," Helena said and Haymitch silenced but he rubbed his wet cheeks angrily, making them even dirtier._

 _Helena and Mrs Donner pulled their children towards the sweetshop. Haymitch, Maysilee and Leonore who sobbed uncontrollably, holding on to her mother's hand._

 _In the apartment above they washed off their fighters. Haymitch glared at Maysilee who glared right back while their mother's put band aids on elbows and knees. Leonore, seeing her sister wasn't in any immediate danger had stopped crying. She watched Haymitch curiously._

 _"Hi," she said._

 _"Hm," said Haymitch but after a look from his mother he muttered,_

 _"Hello."_

 _"I have a birdie, Maysilee have a birdie too."_

 _"Why don't you show him Pip and Flip," their mother said. Leonore nodded eagerly and took her sister's hand._

 _Haymitch watched them disappear into the next room. His face was still dark but the curiosity won over and he followed them._  
 _  
Mrs. Donner pulled out a chair for Helena and set the kettle to boil. The canaries sang and twittered in the next room and they heard their children's voices and most of all Leonore when she eagerly presented the birds.  
_  
 _"They grow up so fast," Mrs. Donner said when she poured tea into their cups. Her long hair was tied back in a bun. Helena remembered her at school, always smiling always surrounded by a group of friends. It was her father's sweetshop and she had never been short on suitors before she became Mrs Donner._

 _"They're around the same age, aren't they?"_

 _"He'll start school in September," Helena said._

 _"The girls too." She blew on her tea and took a sip. "I've been meaning to talk to you. Mrs. Undersee told me what excellent work you did on Ollie's school clothes…"_

 _xXx_

 _And as sunny as anyone could ever wish for, the first day arrived. For Haymitch, for Maysilee and Leonore and all the other five year olds. Haymitch came to school washed and combed and dressed in a sky blue shirt._

 _Pa was in the mines and ma had to be home with his two day old brother. But grandpa Harold was there. He and all the other parents and relatives lined the walls. Haymitch was shown into a bench just behind the Donner girls and when the boy sought him out his grandfather gave him a hint of a wink and Haymitch smiled, a little less nervous._

 _"You're growing like weed, Haymitch," pa said when they were all seated at the dinner table. Ma and pa and Haymitch and grandpa Harold. And baby Amadeus. Haymitch carried out the moses basket for ma to put him in so he wouldn't feel left out._

 _"Soon you're gonna want to borrow my shaving kit, won't you?" Dom said and Haymitch grinned, mouth full of stew._

 _"I don't have a beard!"_

 _"You sure?" Dom said and reached out to feel his chin._

 _But before he could, a spasm of bone rattling coughs ripped through his body and he tipped the water jug over when he pressed his hand against his mouth. A sea of water flowed over the table before Helena could snatch it. Amadeus wailed, Haymitch patted him and tears tilted down Dom's bright red face. When he lowered the hankie to try and draw a breath it was covered in black mucus._

 _"You have to see the doctor," Helena said. That was when they were in bed and both the boys were sleeping._

 _"Helena…"_

 _"That's what he's here for," she said. "It's his job to take care of the coal miners."_

 _"You know what'd happen. He'll just say I'm not fit to work."_

 _"You can't go on like this!" she said, fighting to keep her voice down so she wouldn't wake the children._

 _"There're four of us now."_

 _"We'll talk to pa. Maybe the woodshop …"_

 _"They haven't had an apprentice in almost six years now. You think the master's gonna want a 30 year old hand-me-down coal miner?"_

 _Amadeus whimpered in his crib and Helena pulled the covers from the bed. She didn't look at Dom._

 _"Don't worry about me, Len," he said when she put the baby to her chest and the whimpers stopped. "I'll be fine."_

 _He watched her back as she fed their child and even though neither of them said it they were both thinking it._

 _Dom would be fine, because he had to be._

 **to be continued…**  
 **  
Author's note: I'm really enjoying writing this timeline and a tiny happy clueless Haymitch with his family still alive.  
I hope you enjoyed reading. What did you think? Did you recognize all the canon characters? Remember reviews are love and always appreciated and it really help me to update faster. :)**


	11. Chapter 9, part three

Chapter 9  
A rain of tears

Part three

 _Everybody called her Madam and her house was the oldest, grayest one in District 12. If you walked beyond her back garden you reached the woodland cemetery. People never went that path though. Not if they could help it. People still held a great respect for the old woman but it was more than that.  
_  
 _"She's grotesque. And she's bad luck," Mrs. Thornley said and pressed her lips together whenever she saw Madam in town._  
 _  
But bad luck or not it didn't stop people from buying her liquor. She made it herself from the potatoes she grew in her back garden and from dandelions._  
 _  
Year after year her house had withstood the forces of nature. Weather and wind, sun and rain had left it slant and ramshackle, as if about to collapse in on itself._  
 _  
Haymitch peered at it from behind the honeysuckle bush where all three of them stood hidden. He felt Leonore's nervous breaths against his neck._

 _"Don't do it, Haymitch," she whispered._

 _"Yeah, if you don't dare that's OK," Maysilee teased and Haymitch's eyebrows knitted together. The wind rustled through the trees and bushes and their hair. Thunder clouds lay overhead, thick and dark. The rain would be here at any moment._

 _Haymitch's eyes were fixed on Madam's house._

 _"Let's go to Ollie and help him feed the bunnies," Leonore said but it was like he didn't hear her._

 _Just like the old woman herself, the house didn't seem to belong anywhere. Not the Seam. Not town. If anything it was neighbor with the Victor's Village. If you could call twelve empty houses neighbors. You could see one of the roof tops far on the right, behind the trees._

 _Sometimes they hid in the bushes as close as they could get, peering inside the Village. But they never went any further because if the groundskeeper or anyone else on the Capitol's payroll saw them in there, they'd really be in trouble and so would their families._

 _Not that they wanted to get closer. The Victor's Village was a spooky place with all its empty houses and every rose and tree, every blade of grass so in order it didn't seem natural. The shut windows stared at you, like blind eyes. Waiting for the victors that never came._

 _"She'll kill you," Leonore whispered. "She'll eat you." Haymitch's arms prickled but he remained just as determined. He'd never been able to back down from a challenge._

 _He would have to run straight out in to the open to reach the house. Where Madam might lurch inside. He tried to count the distance, to see how long it would take him to get to her door. Just to her door and touch the handle._

 _"Well?" Maysilee said. "You afraid or not?"_

 _Haymitch pressed his lips together._

 _"I'm not afraid of anything."_

 _And he ran._

 _"She killed her own granddaughter," Leonore gasped after him but Haymitch sprinted, quick and silent as a rabbit. He dove under the window just as the first thunder clap cracked over their heads, like a giant slamming two rocks together._

 _The Donner twins gasped and Haymitch put his hand over his mouth so his quick breaths wouldn't give him away._

 _He listened over the beating of his heart, ready for flight. If Madam was hiding inside. If Madam stood there on the other side of the door, just waiting to grab him._

 _"I want to go home."_

 _"Hush, Lea."_

 _Very very slowly Haymitch poked his nose above the window frame. The thunder rumbled again and he shivered all over. The window was so dirty he hardly saw anything. He could make out the shapes of a floor lamp but no movements._

 _Emboldened he got up from his hunched position. It was an old wooden door, crooked. Didn't look like it shut properly._

 _He looked back at the Donner twins. Even Maysilee looked impressed now. Haymitch flashed them a grin and he reached out and touched the handle._

 _"Now you try and behave, Haymitch," his mother used to say, often, before she set him loose in the morning._

 _Because even if Maysilee was the one who ran the fastest, climbed the highest, found the best hiding places and Leonore always came up with the funniest games there was one thing Haymitch managed better than anyone else and that was getting in trouble. He never meant to. He just seemed to end up there anyway._

 _Like now. Right now. When all he meant to do was touch the handle, he found himself push the door open and step inside._

 _With eyes big and round Haymitch gazed into the one room that was Madam's house. Not a single kid in school had ever been in here._

 _It didn't look like a witch's den, even if it wasn't as clean as ma kept their house._

 _Drowsy flies buzzed against the windows. The sink was loaded with dirty dishes. There was a bed. The lamp. No carpets on the floor. A filled bookcase that listed to the right._

 _And something else. Haymitch's eyes had been drawn to it almost as soon as he entered. It was piled over with more books and more stacks of old papers but Haymitch knew what it was the moment he saw it._

 _A piano._

 _"Go back to your seat, Haymitch. That is not for children," Mr Branch had once told him in music assembly and closed the fallboard with finality when Haymitch had had the audacity to try and look at the ivories._

 _'That is not for children'. What an obvious lie. Everybody knew the Branch gave private lessons. It wasn't even a secret._

 _'The piano is not for_

 _you'. That's what he meant to say._

 _To spend money on piano lessons was an insanity only town's people like the Undersee's could afford. But Haymitch bet that even if he'd had a bag full of money his teacher wouldn't let him touch the piano. Not after what he said in class. The Branch had pressed Leonore to tears one day after she failed to answer one of his questions and Haymitch had shouted "You're a bully!" right in his face._

 _When Haymitch got older he'd learn to keep a low profile. To hold his tongue, for everyone's sake. But back then, when he was still little he couldn't keep quiet if someone was being unfair. And since District 12 didn't exactly lack injustice it was a big reason why he got into trouble so often._

 _He gazed down at Madam's piano. The ivories seemed to be the only things in the house that weren't covered in dust. It was the oldest, most beat down, poor-man's-piano he'd ever seen. Nothing like the grand piano they played during the president's birthday and days like that._

 _It probably didn't even work anymore. And still he itched to try it. To see if he could make a sound, to play even though he didn't know how to play._

 _And it was then, right then, that the door handle rattled._

 _Haymitch whipped around. He saw the door push inwards, the wood creaked. He looked around in panic and fast as a rat he darted under the bed._

 _He lay there covered in dust and his heart beat so hard he thought she would hear it. The dark sky made it hard to make out any details. All he saw was a large form in the doorway._

 _The bedspread hung halfway down the floor, poorly hiding him and he watched Madam through the fringes as she walked into the room._

 _In a seven year old's eyes she was enormous. A wall of a woman who seemed to take up the whole house. She wasn't fat or heavy. Just large. Everything about her was large._

 _She muttered something to herself and the floor creaked as she walked straight towards him and he only just managed to hold back a gasp. But all she did was sit down on the bed which sank from her weight._

 _The seconds ticked by. Rain began to fall, tapping down the windows, thrummed against the roof. Haymitch had Madam's broad feet just an inch away from his face. With bated breath he listened to one deep sigh after another coming from the old woman._

 _And then just when it felt like he couldn't take another moment of it Madam pulled herself up. She stood there and he wished, wished with all that he had that she'd just realized she had to be someplace else, rain or no rain._

 _And then, out of all things, she walked over to the piano. She sat down, the stool creaked under her weight._

 _And she played a melody Haymitch had never heard before._

 _The Capitol decided which music was being played in Twelve, just as they decided which books you were allowed to read. So most of it was grandiose propaganda of some sort._

 _But this was something else. Something the Branch wouldn't play during music assembly, he was sure of it._

 _He couldn't see Madam from where he was hiding but the music, those quick and joyful sounds, every high note, every low tune, they seemed to resonate within his very soul._

 _It mesmerized him in a way nothing had ever done._

 _Like she was playing together with the rain. Like it_ was _rain._

 _Without even realizing he did it Haymitch pulled himself up slightly and peered over the bed to try and see how she moved her hands. Her back swayed back and forth in time with the music. He listened with his mouth open, eyes unblinking, spellbound, until the very last note died out and there was just the rain. Madam's hands fell down from the ivories._

 _And she turned her head and saw him._

 _A gasp escaped Haymitch, he tried to hide back in but it was too late. With a speed that shouldn't be possible for such an old lady Madam jumped from her chair and pulled him out so violently Haymitch thought his head might fall from its neck._

 _"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"_

 _"What the hell is this!?" Her hoarse, deep voice almost scared the life out of Haymitch. "What are you doing in my house!?" The woman shook him until his teeth clattered. "You little beast! I ought to strike you down!"_

 _"I didn't do nuthin!"_

 _"Who are you!?"_

 _"Haymitch!" Haymitch cried. "Haymitch Abernathy!"_

 _Madam's teeth were bared like a mad dog. Their faces were just inches apart and he saw her closer than he'd ever wanted to see her. Her brow and jaws and nose all seemed to jut out from her face in odd angles. Coarse graying black hair. Eyes like crevices as if she'd been stung by trackerjackers. Haymitch's chest rose and fell with each breath he took and he didn't dare move, or look away. He could've been a ragdoll in her clawlike hand._

 _Then she released her hold on his arm, but only to grab him by the shirt collar._

 _And she threw him out in the rain and slammed the door._

 _xXx_

 _The master craftsman didn't want any children running around the woodshop but luckily he wasn't in when Haymitch slipped through the doors._

 _It was always loud in here. The sounds from the machines, the fires going, men shouting. It was essentially a woodshop, stone masonry and blacksmithery all in one. The men working here, because they were essentially men, built houses and furniture, blew glass, fixed leaking roofs, fixed the plumbing, forged crosses, made gravestones. More than one had lost fingers in here or worse. But despite its poor work conditions it was a very sought after place to make a living. An alternative to the mines._

 _Harold was just piecing together a bed and Haymitch climbed up on a stool next to him._

 _Usually when he visited his grandpa Haymitch would talk all the time but now he just sat there, deep in thought. He watched his grandfather work and over the din all around, he could still hear it._

 _The music. The rain music._

" _Grandpa."_

 _"Yes, Haymitch?"_

 _"Why does Madam live away from everyone else?"_

 _Harold hammered a nail into the wood with one expert strike._

 _"Why're you asking?"_

 _Haymitch shrugged. The old man walked around the bed to take the other side._

 _"Was her father's house," he said as he hammered. "He was a gravedigger. Looked after the cemetery."_

 _"Madam's a gravedigger too?"_

 _"She was a teacher."_

 _"All teachers are merchants."_

 _"She was different. She was gifted."_

 _The old man reached for another nail and hammered it into the wood. Haymitch hesitated._

 _"She found her on the graveyard, didn't she? When she was a baby." Harold's eyebrows creased together. "Leonore says Madam killed…"_

 _"Haymitch." There lay a warning in his grandfather's voice. "You'll show her respect."_

 _Haymitch bit his lip._

 _"I'm sorry, grandpa," he said and after that Harold only concentrated on his work._  
 _  
Haymitch climbed down from the stool. It was time for him to go home anyway._

 _"Haymitch," Harold said before he could leave and Haymitch turned around. "You shouldn't bother Madam," the old man said. "She deserves to be left alone after all she's been through."_

 **to be continued…**

 **Author's note: You beginning to put the clues together yet? ;) What do you think? Three more parts to go and then we'll go back to Effie and the present timeline.**


	12. Chapter 9, part four

Chapter 9  
A rain of tears

Part four

" _I'm not coming with. I don't feel well."_

 _They were halfway to the bakery when Haymitch said it. It'd been Tessa's idea, when they all met up after school. The Mellark's was a fine place to be when it rained. Warm and secluded and filled with the wondrous scent of freshly baked goods._

 _The dirt road was filled with puddles that they all zigzagged past. Everyone but Maysilee who walked straight through. Graham had Tessa's school bag slung over his own. She was like a delicate princess next to him. When she smiled it always made him smile too. Smile and talk. Graham, who never said one word more than necessary._

 _Haymitch had been quiet all week. And now the closer they got to the bakery the more undecided he'd become._

 _"You go," he said just as two women, both miner's wives, both with a toddler on the hip, passed them. One of them stared over her shoulder and muttered to her friend,_

 _"With_ town's _kids…"_

 _"I'll see you all tomorrow, 'K?" Haymitch said._

 _Eventually they all walked on. Everyone but Leonore._

" _I know where you're going, Haymitch," she said and his cheeks flushed pink. "Mr Harold says you're not supposed to."_

 _Haymitch put his hands in his pockets and stared sullenly back into her piercing blue eyes._

 _"Grandpa didn't say I'm not supposed to. He just said that I shouldn't… he didn't forbid it…"_

 _"You've been following her around. I've seen it," Leonore said. "And Madam doesn't want you there either, Haymitch. You'll just get in trouble."_

 _"Nobody needs to know."_

 _"But Mr. Harold…"_

 _"No one will know. Not if you don't tell 'em, Lea", Haymitch said brusquely. "Just keep your mouth shut or I'll… I'll tell everybody about how you wet the bed."_

 _Leonore's mouth fell open but before she could respond Haymitch had already run off._

 _He knew he'd been unfair to his friend but the guilt only made him run faster. And it wasn't just Leonore._

 _He'd never disobeyed his grandfather before._

 _Haymitch was small for his age but he was the fastest in school. Water and mud splashed up his skinny legs as he went. The rain worsened, drenched him all through but he just wiped the water out of his face and went on and on, until he saw the distorted lights of Madam's cot._

 _Panting and wetter than a drowned rat he reached the old house. The lights from inside shone over his soaked features._

 _He lifted his hand, hesitated for a split second, then knocked. His heart beat in his throat and it didn't take long until the door swung open and he saw her there, as big and broad as ever._

 _For a moment, neither of them spoke, just sizing each other up. The big woman and the tiny boy._

 _Haymitch swallowed thickly. He tried to keep from shivering and when he spoke, his voice sounded much more confident than he felt._

 _"Teach me."_

 _Madam's eyebrows came together, her face as hard and unrelenting as a rock._

 _"Teach me how to play," Haymitch said. "The Branch'll never let me. No one'll let me. But I wanna learn. Please, Madam."_

 _The old woman pursed her lips. She wasn't fond of that name, he could tell._

 _"You little shadow," she said finally. "You think I haven't noticed you sneaking around? If you're going to follow somebody, learn to do it properly."_

 _But those hard as flint eyes that could make grown men quiver in their boots wandered over him, taking in his hunched, trembling shoulders, his clothes clinging to him and his gray eyes that seemed all too big for his pale, skinny face. She sighed._

 _And she stepped aside, holding up the door._

 _"Well, get in," she said when he didn't move. "Before you catch your death out here."_

 _Haymitch stepped over the threshold and Madam had already turned away from him, walking over to the fireplace._

 _Haymitch stood where she'd left him while a rain puddle slowly grew at his feet._

 _"Get yourself a towel," she said without turning around. "It's in the wardrobe."_

 _He did as he was told. The towel was so old and stiff you could cut yourself on it. He patted it against his face and his eyes went to the piano._

 _"Here," Madam said and he looked up to see her hold out a dripping, steaming hot mug to him._

 _"Um… no… thank you."_

 _"Don't be ungrateful when I'm offering," Madam said and made him accept it. "I'm not going to poison you, child. Whatever your little friends might have told you."_

 _Haymitch took a tiny sip. Mint tea. He warmed his icy hands around the mug._

" _What was that song you were playin'?" he said, watching the piano. "It sounded like rain."_

"'Playing'," _Madam corrected. "It won't kill you to speak properly, boy."_

 _"But you can teach me, right?"_

 _Madam drew a deep breath._

 _"Why?" she said. "It will never be of any use to you."_

 _"Dancin'… I mean dancing is of no use," Haymitch said. "But people dance. We dance at the Harvest Festival. All the time. Please. I want to play like you."_

 _Madam was quiet. Haymitch took a big mouthful of his mint tea as if that would put him on her good side._

 _"You're too young for Vivaldi," she said._

 _"What's a Vivaldi?" What's that?"_

 _Madam grunted and gestured him over._

 _"Stay over there," she said as she sat down in front of the piano. "And if you're going to be in my house," she added, "the first rule is you'll speak when spoken to. So if you think you can keep quiet, I'll show you the basics. Can you do that?"_

 _Haymitch nodded._

 _xXx_

" _Your feet are like two icicles, Haymitch," pa said when he tucked them in that night. The flames from the fireplace made Haymitch's cheeks glow warm and red and ma and pa sat by his bedside like they did every night. "So, how was your day, kid?" pa asked._

 _"Good."_

 _He looked up at their kind faces and knew this was when he was supposed to tell them about Madam._

 _The words were at the tip of his tongue._

 _But he didn't._

 _Pa placed a kiss on his cheek and Haymitch flung his toothpick arms around his neck and then the two of them retreated back to their own room where Amadeus already slept in his cot._

 _Haymitch watched the pale moon through the window and remembered how his fingers had moved from one ivory to another and how it had sounded._

 _"These notes are the alphabet of music," Madam had said. "Memorize them and you can play every song there is."_

 _It was the last thing he thought before he fell into a deep sleep._

 _The next day it had finally stopped raining. Saturday and the Seam was filled with morning sounds. This would have been when he ran over to the twins's house and asked if they wanted to play._

 _Instead he ran in the other direction, right back to Madam's house._

 _When no one answered his knock he walked around to the back garden. This was where Madam grew the potatoes she made booze of. Beyond were just woods and the woodland cemetery where his grandmother was buried._

 _Haymitch was just watching a large monarch butterfly land on a late summer bloom when the door to the outhouse opened and Madam appeared. In today's bright sunlight, the threads in her dark hair shone like silver. It was pretty, in its own way. The only pretty thing about her._

 _He half-feared she'd chase him off with a stick but she didn't._

 _And sipping another cup of scalding mint tea he got to take his old spot next to her by the piano._

 _Two years came and went. Haymitch spent his days with the twins and sometimes Graham and Tess, he did his homework, played with Amadeus and at least once every other week he went over to Madam's, when the coast was clear._

 _His worst fear was that someone would see him and tell ma and pa. He never dared to visit her on the same day of the week and he never took the same route there twice in a row._

 _He felt guilty for keeping secrets from his parents, he never had before. But he was terrified they'd put a stop to it and say just like Madam, "Playing the piano is useless in District 12."_

 _Madam still reminded him of that quite often but she kept teaching him all the same. He wondered why sometimes because she didn't seem to like him all that much. But of course, Madam didn't like anybody. Sometimes she would grab him by the lapel and throw him out the door like she couldn't stand having him there a moment longer._

 _She was fearsome and confusing but not enough to keep him from going there again and again and her door was never closed for him._

" _Why do you like to play the piano so much?"_

 _It was on a clear summer afternoon that Maysilee asked. The Hunger Games were over for the year, a nightmare they were all trying their best to forget and the five of them sat together on the Meadow, like so many times before. Tess leaned back against Graham who had his arms around her, making a crown of flowers that he rested on her golden curls. Haymitch whom had tried to teach Leonore how to play on a grass straw lowered his hands at Maysilee's question._

 _It wasn't easy to explain because he was still only 9 years old and could hardly even make sense of it himself._

 _"I just do," he said._

 _Madam was a tough teacher. It was almost impossible to impress her. But in the end it was what spurred him on. To always get better. And he was a fast learner. She had introduced him to several of the "great masters" – Vivaldi being one of them, but had also taught him the common songs, old and new, that they sang in music assembly._

 _Most of all he enjoyed to play freehand or try and learn a new melody just by ear._

 _When it rained they played four hands and always the same song. 'A rain of tears', the one she'd played the first day._

 _"It was her favorite," Madam muttered, massaging her old, crooked hands after the last tone had died off and Haymitch knew better than to ask any questions._

 _Playing the piano, it consumed him._

 _He knew he couldn't make any money from it and still it was the only thing he knew he wanted to do. It was like he forgot the world when he played. There were no fears or want or poverty. There were no Hunger Games._

 _Just the music._

 _The only other time he ever felt like that was when he read to his brother. Baby Amadeus who wasn't a baby anymore. Ma had come up with his name, an even more impossible one than 'Haymitch' and Haymitch loved him more than anyone else in the world._

 _If you passed the Abernathy's when Haymitch was at school you could be sure to see the four year old sitting outside waiting for his brother to come home while he played with a pile of rocks. Haymitch's precious collection that Amadeus had gotten for his third birthday._

 _Haymitch led an eventful life with Maysilee and Leonore and sometimes Amadeus had to wait forever. But sooner or later he'd always come home._

 _"Haymitch!" Amadeus called, waving. "Haymitch, here! I'm here!"_

 _And Haymitch slumped down on the front step and put his arm around his brother's shoulders._

 _"Can we go to the bookshop?"_

 _If Haymitch loved playing the piano Amadeus loved stories._

 _They didn't come from a family of readers. Books were expensive but it was more than that. There were books that circulated in the Seam, (Capitol approved books but still) and they got read to shreds. But ma's eyesight wasn't great. That's why she had to keep the lamp so close when she worked by her sewing machine. And pa, he said he could never concentrate on a book. He just ended up reading the same sentence over and over._

 _But Amadeus loved stories and Haymitch took him to the small bookshop in town whenever he asked. It was run by a Mr. and Mrs. Henderson. They had black skin and graying hair and if the store was empty, which it was most of the time, the Abernathy brothers got to sit and read together in the old armchair even though the couple knew the two boys could never afford to buy anything._

 _It was always the same book. A large beautiful old volume with leather-bound covers and elaborate illustrations for each story. Amadeus would then crawl up on his brother's lap and have Haymitch read to him._

"Can _we go there?" the little boy pressed now and tugged at his arm until Haymitch took his hand and they headed into town together._

 _And while the two brothers sat perched up in the bookshop's armchair reading, someone else arrived at the Abernathy's door._

 _Helena poured him tea and Glenn wrapped his large hands around the mug. The sun shone against his broken nails that were ingrained with coal dust._

" _I'm worried for him, Mrs. A."_

 _Dom couldn't keep up, he told her. Not the way he used to. He was sinking the rest of his crew down. Glenn and a few others had tried to help fill his daily quota when the peacekeepers looked the other way but he'd still gotten warnings more than once._

 _Glenn's eyes were red and tired as he met Helena's across the table and she saw how hard it took him to say it. But Dom's crew mate had always told the truth straight and he did so now too. The reality which her husband had tried to keep from his family._

 _"He's got Black lung."_

 _Helena nodded. She'd known for quite some time, even if Dom denied it. His strength had always been his pride. He was the man in the house, the one to put food on the table. It was just the way he'd been raised and that they even needed Helena's small income to make ends meet was a sore spot._

 _She'd tried to bring up the topic of her finding a way to support the family and get him out of the mine's foul air once and for all but he wouldn't speak of it. Here in Twelve, the only place where there was work was in the mines and Dom would rather die than he let her into that hell. And even if she went anyway, they wouldn't have her. Not a scrawny woman with no experience._

 _The terrible truth was they needed Dom where he was. To keep Haymitch and Amadeus clothed and fed. To keep their family running._

 _And then one morning the thing happened that couldn't be allowed to happen._

 _Grandpa Harold, who had stood by his machine at the woodshop ever since he turned 14, suddenly sank to his knees. It happened without a sound, not any sound_ _that could be heard over the loud machines and if it hadn't been for his co-worker who turned to blow his nose in that exact moment and could pull the old man away, his arm would have been cut clean off._

 _It was a stroke._

 _Haymitch hoped against hope that if his grandfather just got to rest he'd get better. Get some of his strength back._

 _But Harold would never be the same again._

 _He moved in with them. Dom carried him into their bed that would be his last station in life and Helena tended to his every need._

 _Haymitch and Dom helped as best as they could but grandpa would almost never let anyone near but Helena and when they still tried, it hindered more than it helped. He couldn't move the left side of his body, couldn't do anything by himself. Not eat, not go to the bathroom. Sometimes he started to scream for no reason and hours could pass when he called out Violet's name over and over even though his wife had been dead for years._

 _Amadeus was terrified of him and Dom had to sign up for more work to feed their family of five._

 _Only he wasn't getting it._

 _Coal mining was a daywork business. The workers were hired on a daily basis and paid thereafter. If you couldn't keep up there were ten people ready to take your place._

 _And Domeric Abernathy, who was as strong as an ox, whom had worked the mines for 22 years; whose father and grandfather and great grandfather had all mined coal for as long as anyone could remember – found himself being sent home in the morning._

 _They sold grandma's old sewing stool. They sold everything that could be sold. Ma cared for grandpa in the day and sew during the night, working as fast as her eyes allowed. Pa went to the mines every day and every day – nothing._

" _Come back when you can draw a proper breath," the manager said._

 _And slowly but surely the family began to starve._

 _Amadeus would sob, curled up in their kitchen sofa with Haymitch's arms around him._

 _"Try and sleep, you'll feel better," Haymitch mumbled._

 _"Can I get somethin' to eat? Promise I'll be good. Promise."_

 _"I'll tell you about the prince and the dragon. You want to hear about the prince and the dragon?" he asked, caressing his hair. But Amadeus sobbed and clutched his stomach. A pain no story in the world could make go away._

 _Finally he fell into a restless sleep. Exhausted from crying._

 _Haymitch didn't. All night long he lay there, listing to the whimpers his little brother made in his sleep._

 _And before dawn, when even ma slept cramped together with pa on the old mattress on the floor, he got up._

 _Harold lay there, gasping like a fish out of water, his limp and helpless hands on top of the covers. Those once so strong hands that had helped build the twelve houses of the Victor's Village._

 _Haymitch looked into his pale eyes, listened to his jagged breaths and for a moment he wished he would die. Just die. And then maybe it'd be easier for the rest of the family. Easier for Amadeus._

 _But the moment he thought it he loathed himself for wishing something like that on his grandfather. He took the glass of water from the nightstand and helped Harold to drink a few sips. He saw his lips move, as if trying to say something and Haymitch leaned in, his ear close to his mouth. The words were a mere whisper but he heard them still._

 _"Stay alive."_

 _Haymitch looked back at him. Maybe he was just imagining that he saw something in his eyes, like a flicker of the old man who used to teach him his craft so that one day he wouldn't have to succumb to the mines._

 _"Stay alive." His grandfather nodded as if needing confirmation; needed Haymitch to understand._

 _"Yes, grandpa," he said and Harold's head fell back against the pillow._

 _It was that simple, wasn't it? A simple choice._

 _And when school was over that same day Haymitch went straight into town._

 _With or without his grandfather's lessons, he was still only eleven. The master craftsman wouldn't have him._

 _Instead Haymitch went from door to door to the few well-to-do they had in Twelve, asking for work._

 _Most of them wanted him out of their hair but you couldn't get rid of him until you gave him at least something to do and he was cheap. He got a feeling many of them just took pity on him. But Haymitch painted fences, he mowed lawns, weeded vegetable gardens, mended Undersee's rabbit hutches. He washed windows, run errands, pruned rose bushes._

 _It didn't give much. But little by little, coin by coin, he helped keeping him family afloat._

 _Playing the piano wasn't to think of. He hadn't been at Madam's in… he didn't know how long. Ages._

 _But then one winter afternoon when he was on his way home he saw her ahead of him on the snow packed road. She carried a bag of groceries. She must have heard him because she turned her head. Their eyes met and the moment after, the bag slid out of her hands spilling its content on the ground._

 _Looking back on it later he wondered if she'd dropped the bag on purpose but as it were now he just hurried his steps to help._

 _"Thanks boy," she muttered as he put the food back in the bag. She didn't do any attempt to take it when he tried to hand it to her though, just walked on and Haymitch followed._

 _"I haven't seen you around much," she said once they'd reached her house and she was coaxing the few coals into a flame._

 _"I have to take care of my family," Haymitch said._

 _"Hm," Madam just muttered as usual. She sat down on the bed while Haymitch put away the groceries for her._

 _"I can't come here no more," he said when he was done. "I'm grateful but I need to help put food on the table and I can't do that if I'm here playing the piano… you know."_

" _So you're doing odd jobs in town?" she asked. "Gardening, cleaning…"_

" _Yes," Haymitch said, warily as if waiting to be judged._

 _Madam rubbed her palms over her swollen knuckles, her bony fingers._

" _These hands," she muttered. "They aren't what they once were. They're aching most of the time."_

" _I'm sorry," Haymitch mumbled._

 _Without a word she got up and walked over to the bureau. Haymitch frowned as he heard the chinking of coins. She turned to him again._

" _I will pay you these if you clean up the house, thorougly", she said. "Does that seem fair?"_

 _Haymitch was dumbfounded for a moment._

 _"You sure?" he finally asked. "I mean…"_

" _Of course I'm sure, boy." She put the coins in his hand and closed his fingers around them._ _"Otherwise I wouldn't have said it. Now, get going."_

 _So that's what he did. He swept the whole cabin. Warmed water for the dishes and scrubbed the floorboards until they shone in a whole different color. He washed the cabinets inside and out and the windows that had not been clean in years._

 _While he worked, Madam lay on the bed, her crooked hands folded over her stomach. It seemed like she was sleeping. But when Haymitch had wiped off the sink she opened one eye and looked at him. She glanced around the house._

 _"My," she said. "That's a job well done."_

 _Haymitch was beat but he couldn't hide how proud he was._

 _Madam looked to the clock._

" _There's fourteen minutes left", she said. "Play me a song, child."_

 _Haymitch's eyebrows shot to his forehead._

" _What?"_

" _I'm paying you by the hour. So if you don't want me to dock your pay you'll play me a song."_

 _The muscles around her eye twitched. It wasn't quite a wink but Haymitch's face broke out into a huge smile._

 _It wasn't until he began to play that he realized how much he had missed it. His fingers moved over the ivories and it was like all fatigue and every troubled thought just vanished. The smile never left his lips and he was happy, truly happy for the first time in a long while._

 _It was near pitch dark when he walked home. The cold bit his skin but Madam's coins chinking in his pocket made it an easy walk and he hardly even noticed how tired he was._

 _The Seam was crawling with coal miners and he made sure to not go in their way. He was just about to slip inside the warmth of his own house when he heard a voice._

 _A voice he recognized. He turned his head and all his happiness went away._

 _His father had just said goodnight to Glenn and now he saw Haymitch too._

 _Haymitch stared at his father back in his old miner's clothes, his hands and face all black with coal dust._

 _Dom saw his expression and walked over to him._

 _"I do this for you and your brother," he said. "For your mother and grandpa Harold. The new manager, he doesn't know…"_

 _But before he could say another word Haymitch flew at him. He didn't know what he did. He just hit him and he didn't care that it was his father, he screamed the most vile things at him and hit his fists everywhere he could._

 _Dom caught his wrists and Haymitch fought to get free, to keep hitting him._

 _"What kind of man am I if I can't take care of my own family!"_

" _You're gonna kill yourself!" Haymitch cried. "I can make it work! And soon I'll be twelve and can sign up for tesserae and…"_

" _You're not!" Dom thundered. "I'm your father and I forbid it!"_

 _"I hate you I hate you!" Haymitch wrestled himself free and ran. Dom called after him but he didn't stop. He didn't even know where he was going. Just away from him. Away from everything._

 _Tears blurred his vision and it wasn't until he slipped on the ice and fell over that he finally stopped._

 _He lay on the ground, panting. He choked back a sob and rubbed his tears before they'd get the chance to fall._

I'll just lie here, _he thought._ The peacekeepers can come and take me. Who cares.

 _It wasn't until he heard a dog bark that he finally looked up. He was on the Meadow and a small ruffled dog ran up to him. It barked, jumped backwards and barked again._

 _"Here boy!" a voice called and the dog dashed away again. Haymitch followed him with his eyes and saw a dark haired girl stand just at the edge of the Meadow with the Seam at her back._

 _He got to his feet. Brushed the snow from his knees. He knew who she was even if he'd never spoken to her, had seen her often enough in the dining hall at school._

 _Gwen's and Pissin' Joe's daughter._

 _Tara._

 _She was from the Seam just like him, a year older and with the the longest eyelashes he'd ever seen. She peered at him, watchfully curious. Her dog barked at her feet. It was a tiny, unusually ugly muck. But all Haymitch really noticed was the book the girl kept to her chest._

" _That's mine!" he gasped out. "That's my book!"_

 _The girl's brow crinkled._

 _"It's my mother's and mine."_

 _"It's mine!" Haymitch said and his voice rose in anger._

 _Tara pressed the book closer to her chest and she turned on her heel and walked off, back into the Seam._

 _"I was gonna buy it," Haymitch said heatedly and he had to run to keep up with her. The small dog jumped at their feet and barked. "For my kid brother!"_

 _"I bought it. Go away!" Tara said and Haymitch's cheeks flushed redder than they already were._

 _"I'll pay you! Alright! I'll pay you anythin' you want."_

 _"You don't have any money!" Tara said. "And it was my great grandmother's book. We had to sell it years ago. Go away!"_

 _"Tara!" Haymitch called but then they'd reached her house and she closed the door in his face. Haymitch knocked hard, only to hear her turn the key._ _Furiously he kicked a big snow heap, making a cloud of ice crystals. He jammed his hands in his pockets and walked off. Home. Where else could he go._

 _"I thought you'd never come home to me no more," Amadeus whispered when they lay in their kitchen sofa. The boy rested his head against his big brother's arm like so many nights before and Haymitch squeezed his shoulder._

 _"I'll never do that again, I promise," he mumbled. "K?"_

" _OK."_

 _Amadeus fell asleep long before Haymitch did. He lay there and stared out into the darkness. When the door to their parents' bedroom creaked opened he knew who it was without looking._

 _"Haymitch?" Dom mumbled. He hadn't come to say goodnight to them that night but here he was. "Haymitch, you awake?" Haymitch heard his short, raspy breaths and the anger shot up inside him again. It was like a hard, ice cold clump in his chest and he didn't move, just pretended he was asleep._

 _His father stood there, for a long moment he stood there watching his oldest boy._

 _And then he turned back to his own room and closed the door._

 **to be continued...**


	13. Chapter 9, part five

Chapter 9  
A rain of tears

Part five

 _Things would never be the same between Haymitch and his father after that. Pa, who used to be his best friend. His superhero. With each passing week, with every fight they had, they were becoming more and more like strangers. Dom only got work one day out of seven on a good week but they scraped by and nothing Haymitch or Helena said could keep Dom from going to the mines._

 _And Haymitch loathed him for it. Loathed that his father would rather shut his eyes to the truth about his health than let people help him._

 _He'd never forgive him for that._

 _Amadeus got frightened when people yelled and after grandpa Harold moved in, he gravitated toward his big brother even more._

 _Haymitch who still had to work a lot tried to get him more interested in playing with kids his own age. He didn't think it was good for him sitting alone so much but the boy was shy around people outside the family._

 _As for Maysilee and Leonore, Haymitch hardly ever saw them anymore. Of course they were still in school together and if they met at the bakery or the grocer's or the apothecary they always nodded hello. But the close bond they'd shared for all those years, it would never be the same._

 _He knew his friendship with the Donner twins had been unusual. They would probably never have been friends in the first place if his mother hadn't become their seamstress. Merchants and Seam workers alike had muttered quite a lot when they saw them playing together but they, Haymitch, Maysilee and Leonore, hadn't even been aware of the fact they were supposed to be different._

 _Now their friendship was slowly dissolving like friendships sometimes do and he saw them spending more and more time with Theresa when she wasn't helping her parents at the apothecary shop._

 _Ever since he shouldered the responsibility of feeding his family it was like the differences between their lives were pulling them further and further apart, whether they wanted to or not._

 _He had to go to work every day after school, he would have to sign up for tesserae as soon as he turned twelve, while they… well, wouldn't._

 _He didn't hold them a grudge. It was just the way it was. But he missed them. Mourned the world they'd shared once when they could tell each other everything._

 _Not that he had a lot of time to ponder over this. He worked most all day off school and on Saturdays. What little free time he had left he wanted to spend with his family._

 _And Tara._

 _After their first meeting on the Meadow Haymitch had kept seeking her out in the school yard, followed her home and had even come knocking on her door at weekends – using everything in his arsenal to try and make her change her mind about the book._

 _But Tara was hard as a stone._

"It's the only nice thing we've got," she said.

 _It took a while, quite a while but when Haymitch finally had to accept he'd never get his hands on the book, it was already too late. He'd already started to like hanging out with her._

 _Tara had lived alone with her mother ever since her father died when she was still a baby._

 _Pissin' Joe had been a known informer and one of the most hated men in Twelve. People called him Pissin' Joe because it was said that after he got on bad terms with his best friend, he went pissing on his grave after he died. Whether that was true or not, Tara's father made a lot of enemies in the district and ended up being killed by an angry mob. No one was even sure who actually killed him but four men were hanged on the square because of it. So just as much as people admired the Abernathys they looked down on Tara's family._

 _But she was cool. She and her mother both._

 _Haymitch and Amadeus joined up with her every morning before school. She was tons of fun and could swear like a sailor, up to the point even Haymitch blinked and had to say stop. She was a great story teller too, claiming all of her insane tales of the world was the God's honest truth. A joke of course but Amadeus, only seven, listened with round eyes and believed every word._

 _He adored Tara and often came with when Haymitch visited. Tara liked his house better though. Her mother worked the mines often from dawn to dusk so their place was almost always empty while the Abernathy's kitchen was the heart of the house where everyone gathered. Ma by her sewing machine, pa with Amadeus on his lap, playing tic-tack-toe. Grandpa Harold in the armchair close to the fire and Tara and Haymitch on the floor, throwing a ball so Gus, the dog, could run after it._

 _Haymitch loved those days. Food was still scarce leaving everybody in the house with a gnawing feeling in the stomach but being together all of them and with no fights, you could almost forget the misery so very present in your life and the Hunger Games drawing nearer._

 _But then one day, shortly after the last snowstorm in March, Haymitch woke hearing his father's hushed voice, saying,_

 _"I might be late so you just start without me, Len."_

 _Haymitch immediately pulled himself up, only to see Dom dressed in his miner's clothes._

 _"Where're you going?" he asked loudly, not wanting his father to think he could sneak out unnoticed. "Today's Sunday!"_

 _His brother squirmed next to him at the loud sounds._

 _"They need extra folk, Haymitch," their father said. Amadeus, awake now, looked worriedly from Haymitch to Dom. "I won't miss dinner. I'll just join up with you later."_

 _"It's Sunday!" Amadeus covered his ears. "We're supposed to be together on Sunday! Or don't you even care anymore?"_

 _"Haymitch," Helena warned but Dom just watched his oldest son with sad and exhausted eyes._

 _"You don't waste any time making life difficult for me, do you?" he said. He kissed Helena's cheek in passing and left._

 _The rest of the family spent a quiet and miserable Sunday. Their first Sunday without Dom. Haymitch sat with Amadeus, too bitter to even speak. He felt like kicking and screaming and crying like Gertie Thornley when he thought about his father and how he'd looked at Haymitch like he was the biggest disappointment in his life._

 _When dinner came, the two boys set the table. Helena served up food on their plates and then helped grandpa Harold to eat, spoonful by spoonful. No one felt like talking. And when it was time for the dishes their father still hadn't come home._

 _"He loves you," ma said, trying to lift her sons' spirits. She dabbed Grandpa Harold's mouth with a napkin and moved his armchair back to the fireplace. "That's why he's doing this."_

 _Right after she'd said it they heard sounds from outside, like boots against slush. The next moment Tara's mother barged through the door, covered in back and in her miner's clothes._

 _"Helena!" Gwen panted, looking from her face to the two boys and back in anguish. "The mines… Dom."_

 _"What's wrong with pa!?" Haymitch had sprung to his feet. Amadeus clung to him._

 _Helena had already gotten her coat, pale as a ghost._

 _"Please, stay with the boys."_

 _And she was gone._

 _"No, I'm coming too!" Haymitch said when Gwen tried to stop him. Amadeus clung to his arm, crying and wailing._

 _He hammered Gwen with questions but she didn't give him any straight answers. Amadeus was going into hysterics. Finally Haymitch sat him down on his lap, rocking him. His face was ashen. When the handle creaked his eyes darted to the door but it was just Tara and Gus._

 _"I don't know," she said before he could even ask. "But they say… they say your father collapsed."_

 _An hour passed. Two. Tara and Amadeus sat cross-legged on the floor with Gus in the little boy's arms. Gwen eventually made up their beds for the night but while_ _Amadeus fell into a restless sleep whimpering under the blankets Haymitch couldn't be still. Most of the time he was by the window, watching and waiting for his mother and father to come home._

 _When Helena finally did step over the threshold she was gaunt, beaten down, like she'd aged 20 years in the past few hours._

 _And she came alone._

 _xXx_

 _Amadeus couldn't understand that his father was gone. Pa, the biggest and strongest of them all, nothing could beat him. Nothing. The seven year old followed Haymitch around asking questions he didn't know how to answer._ _  
_

 _"Why did he die, Haymitch? How could he die?"_

 _Amadeus wouldn't know what a right-sided heart failure was and even if Haymitch had managed to explain that it was the years and years of breathing in coal dust that had ended their father's life he couldn't bear to even speak of it. Ma couldn't either. They were alike in that respect. They pushed down the things that hurt too much and carried on like everything was normal._

 _Too hollow to even cry Haymitch threw himself into work with a vengeance, even more determined to provide for the family, hoping school and hard labor would make him too exhausted to think about pa.  
_ _  
_ _He didn't see Madam until it was time to harvest dandelions. Something that used to lift his spirits tremendously, knowing he'd get to add dandelion salad to his family's dinner after he and Madam had chopped off the blossoms for the wine.  
_ _  
_ _It wasn't the first time he'd helped her make alcohol. The smell made him crinkle his nose but ever since she stopped being a teacher it had been her small escape from starvation – making those bottles from dandelions and potatoes and oak leaves too now that she had someone like him who could scale up those trees on the Meadow._

 _Their fingers and palms were stained with dandelion sap as they cut the blooms off its stems. Madam rubbed her brow with the back of her hand and looked down at the young boy by her side.  
_ _  
_ _"It's under control," she muttered. "Go play me a song, boy."  
_ _  
_ _Haymitch's brow crinkled. He didn't look up from his work.  
_ _  
_ _"I don't wanna play."  
_ _  
_ _The water was boiling and Madam went to lift it from the heat.  
_ _  
_ _"Was my father who taught me this recipe," she said. "It's been in our family for almost 200 years."  
_ _  
_ _Haymitch pressed his lips together and stared intently at the knife as it cut through the plants. He didn't want to hear about Madam's father or her family.  
_ _  
_ _"The fights we could have", she continued in the same calm, rough voice. "We were just as bad tempered. Both of us. But it didn't matter. We knew where we had each other. He knew I loved him and I knew he'd always love me no matter what I said or did."_

 _Haymitch clutched his fist around the knife so he wouldn't humiliate himself by crying._

 _"Why don't you just go play me a song."_

 _"I don't wanna play!" He whipped around, throwing his knife far in a corner. "I'm never gonna play! Not ever again!"_

 _He stood there breathing heavily and waited for the scolding, wanted it even. Madam watched him quietly._

 _"There wasn't anything you could've done, child," she said. "His lungs were already too damaged."_

 _"Yeah! I should've just pressed a pillow over his head like_ you _did and be done with it!"_

 _And with that he ran and slammed the door shut._

 _Madam stood where he'd left her. No one looking through the window could have guessed what she was thinking in that moment. She only picked up the knife that'd left a gash in the wood and returned her attention to the dandelions._

 _It was all dark when she went out but Madam knew her way around the district as well as her own house. There were still a few lights on in the Seam but otherwise only the burn barrels for the peacekeepers on patrol lit her way to the boy's house._

 _She kept herself in the shadows. The boy and his baby brother was getting ready for bed. And Helena, she was working. The lamp light reflected itself in Madam's gray eyes as she watched the young woman. Sweet Helena. If she had lifted her gaze from the sewing machine she might have seen the old woman there even in her dark shawls that made her almost one with the night._

 _But she didn't._

 _And Madam left the basket of dandelions on the front step, along with the coins at the bottom. When Haymitch answered her knock she'd already disappeared._

 _xXx_

 _That year's Hunger Games were one of the longest in history.  
_ _  
_ _And Haymitch turned twelve._

 _Tara came with him when he went to the Justice Building and they carried his year's supply of grain and oil back together._

 _They swung by her house first though. He hadn't told ma about the tesserae and even though he knew she knew as well as he did that they didn't have any choice he just couldn't face her right now or Amadeus._

 _When he was younger he'd thought he'd be scared out of his wits, the day his name was put in the reaping bowl. That he'd only feel safe before then. Of course now he knew you were never really safe and with the loss of pa and his fight with Madam weighing down his conscience… it was like he couldn't muster up enough energy to care.  
_ _  
_ _But if he could pretend for Helena and Amadeus and the rest of the world he couldn't hide it from Tara._

 _So when they sat there by the fire with Gus in a panting heap on the rug Haymitch told her. About Madam, about the secret piano lessons, about pa, about everything._

 _Tara listened in silence. She didn't interrupt once. And it was the thing about her. Just another aspect where they were alike. She could comfort you just by being there. Because she understood, because she was his best friend and didn't come with a bunch of platitudes like "You're going to be alright" or "Things will get better soon."_

 _But she did say one thing,_

 _"You should go tell Madam you're sorry."_

xXx

 _It felt like years since he'd been over at her place. He dreaded what he was about to do but Tara walked by his side. It helped that she was there._

 _Without knocking, it'd never been their custom, he pushed inside and the first thing he saw was the broken plate in a pool of soapy water.  
_ _  
_ _"Well, it's about time." Madam sat slumped down on a stool. There was a hint of a smile on her lips but the words seemed to cause her difficulty, her round shoulders rising and falling in ragged breaths._

 _Haymitch was by her side in a heartbeat._

 _"What's the matter? What's happened?"_

 _"Nothing," Madam waved his words away. "Plate just slipped out of my hands. Nothing to worry about. Could you just…"_

 _He helped her up and to the bed._

 _"You want me to get someone? Someone from the apothecary…"_

 _"No need to fuss with me, child," she said. "I'm a big girl."_

 _He pulled a chair to the bed and sat down,_ _took the blanket from the foot of the bed and tucked her in. He watched her with concern but she was already starting to breathe more like normal._

" _What I said…" he began._

 _"It doesn't matter, boy." She opened her hand and he took it. It was the first time he'd ever held her hand._ _Her fingers were crooked and gnarled but he felt the strength in them, still._

 _"I'm sorry about your father," she said. "I know what it's like when you want to help someone and you can't."_

 _And the tears that had always been there, like a clump in his stomach, welled up in Haymitch's eyes. Madam didn't say anything but she didn't let go of his hand._

 _"You're a good boy," she mumbled. "Don't become like me."_

 _Tara had kept to the background, picking up the broken glass. Now she walked up to Haymitch. At his side, always._

 _"This is Tara."_

 _"The one with the little dog," said Madam._

 _Tara nodded. Haymitch rubbed his eyes with his hand._

 _"I'll stay here tonight."_

 _"No need. Go home and be with your family. When you come back here on Friday we'll play four-hands together."_

 _They stayed long enough to take care of the dishes though. Haymitch washed and Tara dried them. All the while, Madam lay on the bed with her eyes closed. It looked like she was sleeping. But when Haymitch and Tara was about to leave she drew a ragged breath._

 _"Haymitch!"_

 _He turned, surprised by the rare use of his name._

 _The fatigue was pulling her under but she fought it._

 _"When you see your mother," she said. "Tell her… thank you. Tell her I'm sorry."_

 _xXx_

 _Haymitch knew Helena loved him and his brother; that she'd do anything to keep them safe. But he could count on one hand the number of times she'd hugged him._

 _Helena had always been a very calm and collected person, much like grandpa Harold. Dom had been the emotional one in their family. The one who laughed and teared up easily and who never failed to hug and kiss his sons every chance he got. Perhaps because he knew he'd have to make up for the fact their mother wasn't a cuddly person._

 _But when Haymitch walked up to her that evening and repeated Madam's words, he saw something on her face. Like when a stone hit the surface of a pond it rippled through her normally so composed features. And the next moment she'd pulled him into a hug._

 _Haymitch was too shocked to even hug back. So unused to having his mother's arms around him he just stood there, rigid and stiff._

 _The hug didn't last very long and he watched as she returned to the stove as if nothing had happened._

 _"You knew Madam, didn't you?" he asked quietly._

 _The fabric stretched over her back as she stirred the pot. Finally when he thought she wasn't going to answer she said,_

 _"Constance, Haymitch. That's her name."_

 _Haymitch wouldn't play four-hands with his old piano teacher. Not that Friday or any other day. Not long after his last visit, Madam, Constance, passed away in her sleep._

 _They buried her in the woodland cemetery where her granddaughter rested._

 _Haymitch couldn't wrap his head around the fact that she was gone. It didn't feel real that if he walked into Madam's house she would not be there, asking him to play her a song._

 _Someone needed to clear care out her things. Every house in District 12, however ramshackle, belonged to the Capitol. Within two days the relatives had to empty it so the Head Peacekeeper could assign it to the next married couple or else all the belongings were fair game for lower ranked peacekeepers to rummage through before they burned the rest, leaving the place robbed and violated._

 _Of course, Madam had no living family members. Haymitch had wanted to do it. He hated the thought of someone else looking through her stuff; someone who hadn't known her._

 _But on the day, he was told to stay home with grandpa Harold and Amadeus while ma cleared out Madam's house with the help of Greasy Sae. Later he heard that most of it, along with the old piano, was donated to the community home._

 _While his mother was away Haymitch sat at the kitchen table playing tick-tack-toe with his brother but his mind wasn't there._

 _And woven together with his loss was something else. Madam's last words that wouldn't leave him any rest._

Tell her thank you. Tell her I'm sorry. _What'd she mean by that?_

 _Ma wouldn't tell and w_ _ith each day his unease only grew._

 _Until one day when Helena sent him to the Undersee's with Ollie's new shirt and trousers and Haymitch walked straight over to Greasy Sae's house before anything else._

 _The woman sat on her front step, plucking a chicken. With each yank clouds of feathers snowed down on her youngest to the boy's glee and delight. She brushed a strand of hair from her face and that's when she saw him._

 _"Haymitch. Hi."  
_ _  
_ _"How'd Madam know my mother?" Haymitch blurted. "Something happened, didn't it? Before. You know, don't you? You know everything."_

 _Sae had abandoned the chicken. She gave him such a queer look._

 _"She won't tell me, but I have to know! Please, Sae!"_

 _"Haymitch…"_

 _"Did she do something to my mother?"_

 _Sae watched the twelve year old standing before her, the desperation in his eyes._

 _She drew a breath, deep as a sigh._

 _"Come."_

 _She took him to the Meadow. They sat under Haymitch's and the twins' old oak tree while the toddler picked flowers, not too steady on his chubby legs._

 _"Just so you know, Haymitch," Sae said, "I don't know all of this firsthand. Some of it I've heard from others, or just guessed."_

 _Haymitch watched her intently, waiting for her to continue. Sae looked from him and to her son and there was concern in her eyes that wasn't because of either of them. And she said,_

 _"You know she had a granddaughter, don't you?"_

 _Haymitch nodded. Of course he did. How could he not? It'd all been before he was born but everyone knew about District 12's victor. Their only victor._

 _Sophie._

 **to be continued…**

 **Author's note: And this Haymitch-esque timeline is coming to a close. Sixth and finale part coming up! Thanks to all of you reading and responding to this story. It really means a lot!**


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